


Balance of Power

by Cythieus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors
Genre: Adorable Linkle, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Canon Collision, Dark and Gray Morality, F/F, F/M, Freeform, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Incest, Link can talk, Mixing of eras, Multi, No Ganon, Non-Ganon Threat, Original villain - Freeform, Post-Canon, Post-Game(s), Re-write, Rebuilding Hyrule, Remake, Slow Build, Zelda Rules, no betas we die like men, third person
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:35:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15592284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cythieus/pseuds/Cythieus
Summary: Over the past century the world has passed Hyrule by. The end of Calamity Ganon means that the outside world is accessible again. Link and Zelda work to establish the kingdom, but she is tired of subjects that have grown ruthless and her efforts to help them seem in vain. When Lissa, an exiled Ylissian princess, and her companions show up on their shores just hours after a tragedy at Zora's domain the idea that it could be mere coincidence seems unlikely.20th Anniversary Fic for me.





	1. Prologue: The Age of Burning Fields

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a 20th Anniversary story for me. Twenty years ago I published part of a story called "Balance of Power" on a Zelda fan site (you can still find it if you know where to look). Long story short: I was twelve and it very bad. This story is going to deliver on what I wanted that to be. Also note: Linka is Linkle. I just don't like the name Linkle. Everything about her can be assumed to match that of Linkle from Hyrule Warriors unless stated otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking it out while I figure this story out, this has been a long time coming and as of September 14th, 2018 this little tale is getting underway. If you read there previous version things are quite a bit different than they were. Hope you enjoy!

The water around the castle seemed darker. It swirled and bubbled with signs of the blight that had begun to seep outward from the castle. The very land surrounding the castle and the town outside of it was sickly. The greens of the grass weren’t as green and the wind carried on it a rotten smell. 

Ganon’s forces patrolled in a less than orthodox way—his input in their actions was diminished. Purah could only guess that this was thanks to the Princess’s actions. Still, one had to wonder how long even Zelda could hold out and without their Champion it felt like maybe they were only prolonging the inevitable. 

Purah had to do something. In her youth she had been quite the adventurer—much to her younger sister Impa’s dismay. At more than one hundred and twenty years old, even with her strong Sheikah blood such feats were impossible. Or they would have been if not for the ambitious experiment that she and Symin had done using ancient runes. 

In a way the experiment was too much of a success and it came with a ticking clock of a double edged sword. The first night she slept she regressed in age by at least sixty years. Since then the process had slowed, but there was the very real possibility that in the next year or so she could wake up as a toddler or embryo, which, while frightening, might be worth the shock on Symin’s face. 

She doubted that she’d be aware enough to tell what was happening. 

While she still could, Purah made the decision to partake in a dangerous mission with the help of some hired treasure hunters. It was disrespectful, but she needed the extra hands as much as they needed someone who knew Hyrule Castle’s extensive layout. Her plan was simple, break into the castle and steal one of the final experiments that they had been working on. It was a sort last effort contingency plan in case things ever came to the point that they are now. 

While Zelda had ordered it not to be used, Zelda might not live long enough to punish her. There was only so much time that even the Princess’s sealing powers could hold the unrelenting might of Calamity Ganon. And even if her current plan worked, Purah doubted that she would be of an age that Zelda would bother to punish for much longer. 

A week ago she and Symin surmised that her body had reverted back to that of a nineteen year old woman. She remembered being nineteen and the way some of the men would look at her as she helped them rebuild Hateno right after the Calamity had first come back. It was much the same way one of the young treasure hunters was looking at her now. 

One of the treasure hunters, Garold tied the boat off to the castle docks. His muscular arms working to make the knot as secure as possible. He was outfitted in simple cloth clothes with no armor or fancy gloves or boots. A sword was jammed into a holster at his belt. He glanced over at Purah. “There milady.” 

“Come now,” Purah said. “I’m much too young for all of that!” She giggled nervously, but quickly stopped herself as not to alert the creatures that she knew to be on patrol. 

“What are we allowed to take?” Asked a dark haired woman with skin so pale the veins showed in his cheeks. Her blue eyes were without laughter. 

“Anything you can grab, Meriel,” Purah said as she reached up to fashion her hair into a loose bun. It had been a long time since she held a sword in any capacity or had hair this long. She didn’t want the latter flopping around as a distraction and interrupting her ability to perform with the former. “There’s only one thing that I need from here and I know exactly where it is. Fortunately for us, the docks are very closet the library and there’s passages leading around to it from here.” 

The third and final of the treasure hunters was a blonde Hylian with gray eyes, he kept the bottom half of his face covered with a cloth most of the time, but as he spotted a dead body laying against the bricks near the side of the docks he walked over and squatted down next to it. “Looks like some poor son of a bitch beat us here,” said Samson. 

“What do you suppose killed him?” Asked Meriel.

Purah strolled up and pointed down at the blackened section of bone peeking out through the tattered clothes and shattered armor. “Those are the burns from a Guardian’s primary weapon—hope beyond hope that you never have to feel that kind of power first hand.”

“Guy I knew on an old crew got split in half messing around with one of the Guardians. Called himself getting some kind of ancient screw for this old geezer,” Garold said smoothing down his thick braids. 

Purah thought it best not to mention that she knew that old geezer. “This way,” Purah said motioning with her hand as she squatted down near the wall headed to the north. “The guardians go into a dormant state when there isn’t a threat around. Some of them might not have seen a sign of life in the area for decades—we should be able to slip past many of them so long as we don’t enter their direct line of sight.” 

They stuck close together and near the wall, moving into the spacious area at the Western side of the docks. In decades gone by there would be all manner of merchant ship docked below here selling wares and various exotic fruits from people right here in Hyrule to lands far across the oceans horizon. Anything that was there before had rotted away now due to lack of care, theirs was the only boat taking a slot in the docks, it bobbed up and down on the current as a gust of warm wind moved the waters. 

Something was beating at the air nearby, like rapid small wings. Purah held her hand up, to caution her three companions. Then she pointed off to the side of the castle, out over the open water of the moat. Two guardians with propellors fixed to the top of they central areas hovered past. Though the beam from their targeting light wasn’t active, they could fire at a moment’s notice if they suspected something. 

“Never seen guardians like that,” Meriel whispered.

“I have,” said Garold. “They mostly stick to the area around Death Mountain.”

She shook her head. “If you ever hear tell of a dangerous job around Death Mountain, forget my name,” she said to Samson.

Samson smiled. “If you want to write off good crystal that easily,” he said with a shrug. 

They moved through the dock area until there was a doorway leading into a kind of storage room. Purah slipped through the door first, feeling along the wall just inside of the door with her hand. “We used to keep torches here—I doubt they’d work anymore.” 

It wasn’t that dark inside, surprisingly. The windows allowed light to sweep in from up high and there was an otherworldly, red mist that left a dull shimmer in the air. The treasure hunters sensed it too. “Why is the air glowing?” Asked Meriel.

“When Ganon took over his magic warped the land. Somewhere in the upper most echelons of this castle the Princess is holding Ganon under seal. The more time that goes on the more of his magic bleeds through into the rest of the world,” Purah said. The hallways leading deeper into the North Wing of the castle. They were nearing the King’s Study, though it was above them on one of the higher floors. 

The air this deep in the castle held a stale, wet smell. It was muggy and hard to breath. Then there were the bodies; every so often on the floor there would be the body of some poor soul who had lost their life at the hands of Ganon’s attack. Purah avoided looking at them out of a fear she might see someone that she remembered. The walk to the library, which had never been long seemed to go on forever. 

There were rooms along the side of them, some of the doors were blocked. Garold came to a stop, slinging his pack off of his shoulder onto the ground. He opened it and pulled out a small leather-bound book. “I wanted to save this until we got inside,” he said. 

“Is this the area?” Purah asked.

He nodded. “My mother claims our family worked in these halls. An ancestor mine was a librarian in the castle and another was a knight—some of their love letters were said to be left in one of these rooms.” 

“You said it was important to you. I didn’t know it was personal,” said Meriel. 

Garold smiled. “You’ve got something to learn, girl,” Garold said. “Not all treasure is sparkly.” He flipped through the book, reading to find some clue to the whereabouts of what he was looking for. 

“Good luck,” said Samson.

“Thanks.”

Purah touched his shoulder with her hand, giving him a slight nod of her head before she struck off deeper into the hall. “There’s a secret passage that cuts through to the library just around the corner.” That corner seemed to be a tremendous distance from them. As they walked there was a slight whirring sound in the air. Purah glanced back to see that Garold was no longer in the hall. 

“Do you hear that?” Asked Meriel.

Purah held up her hand just as the metallic clanging of something moving echoed down the hall. The three of them froze, holding their position near the wall to await whatever was coming. When the thing stepped into view it paused to survey the hall and pushed its body up higher on the four telescoping legs that carried it in an effort to get a better vantage point. 

A guardian. A red beam of light made sweeps over the hallway looking for them. Purah clambered against the wall behind a small table and the others followed. “It’s already entered a state of high alert. It’ll be hard to hide.” 

Meriel loaded an arrow into her bow, holding it down against her legs as she peered over the top of Purah’s head toward the guardian. “Lucky for you, I know a trick,” she whispered. 

“That would be unwise,” Purah said. 

“Listen to the woman, Mer,” Samson chided her. 

“How good are you with that sword?” Asked Meriel. “I need you to attack once I have it pinned in place. Trust me.” With that she stepped out into the open and drew back her bowstring. “Over here!” 

The guardian’s central turret swiveled around, the blue eye blinking red as a tone denoted it’s scanning the area. When it spotted Meriel it began to hum with a tense sound. It was charging up. Meriel loosed an arrow hitting the thing right in the circular spot that acted as it’s eye. The guardian lost footing, it’s turret rotating around in a confused frenzy looking for its lost target. When it spotted her again she fired a second arrow, causing it to reset. 

“Now would be a good time. Go!” Yelled Meriel. 

Purah and Samson charged out into the hallway, running down either side of Meriel’s line of sight. With each shot Meriel reset the guardian and cause damage to the turret. Before they were within striking range the guardian was already shooting sparks from it’s dome shaped head and shaking erratically. 

Samson landed the first blow, it’s sword severing one of the things mechanical legs and sending it careening to the floor. Purah let out a roar, hacking at the guardian with her short sword. She remembered what she had seen when they opened these things up all of those years ago. Robbie and the Princess Zelda were always talking about complex circuitry and the essential parts of the guardian. They were extremely resilient pieces of machinery, but they were weak if you knew where to hit and how. 

Purah worked to cut one of the main vein like tubes that ran along the inside of the armored shaft that raised the turret up and down. The guardian didn’t put up much of a fight before it collapsed onto it’s side in pile. 

Instinctively she and Samson covered their faces before the guardian exploded into a small pile of metal and components. Sticking out her leg, Purah searched through the pieces using her foot to scatter them. She reached into the pile and yanked her hand away, testing it. “Gotta be careful with these—they’re still live for a while.” Purah plucked a few screws and the central eye component out and slipped them into her pouch. “I know an old geezer who’ll like these.” 

The library was not being watched by any other guardians. It was at the edge of the castle in a nonessential place. Ganon didn’t come to control knowledge or books. He came to claim the castle and you do that from the center. It was the very reasoning she had for hiding her research here. 

Inside of the library was mostly empty, though the chewed up bones and areas where books had been used as cook-fires pointed to this place having been recently occupied by Bokoblins. She had picked a time nearing dusk anticipating this. Bokoblins were naturally inclined to go out into the night and hunt. They really only feared man-made light, but at night they truly thrived. They would be preparing for their night of debauchery now. 

“You two don’t seem to eager to grab anything,” said Purah glancing over at them. 

“It seems easier to get in than I expected,” said Meriel. “We were going to bring a crew back and really go to town on the place. We didn’t want to try and do that and prolong your mission.” 

“Yeah, you’re already paying us,” said Samson. 

Purah pushed a rolling ladder down the side of the library to the second that she remembered hiding her research in. She tested the ladder with her foot to see if the decades had been kind to it. “Yeah, putting the last of that royal research grant to good use. Impa would be proud.” 

Meriel bounced up and down on the tips of her toes as she approached Samson. “You hear that, love? Once we’re out of here we’re going to be the only ones who know how to get around in here,” she grabbed him at the bicep and kissed him on the lips. “We’ll be rich.” 

“Let’s not be disrespectful in front of the lady,” Samson said. “Some of her friends perished in this place.” 

Purah climbed up the ladder, glancing back at them over her shoulder, but saying nothing. She rummaged through the books on the shelf, tossing them aside until she found what she was looking for. A small wooden box with a rune burnt into the top. She descended the ladder staring down at the box. “I guess I should check inside before I call it mission accomplished, huh?” 

“You know how to open it?” Asked Samson. “That’s the rune for locking, isn’t it?” 

“You read Sheikah?” Asked Meriel, her eyes wide with shock.

Samson smiled. “Yeah. I thought I told you?”

Purah could hear them, but she was only half listening as she pressed her hands to the box’s lid, muttering the incantation to open it. “No, that’s not it,” she said. She tried another. The lid began to glow. 

“You know, I thought you’d bring Impa,” Samson said. 

Purah’s eyes moved up slowly to focus on him. Samson was standing next to Meriel with a wide smile on his face and his arm around the other woman’s waist. She hadn’t told this man who she was—that much she was sure of. And people who knew the dead language of the Sheikah weren’t just robbing castles for rupees. Still, Purah didn’t let on that anything felt suspicious. “Pardon me, what did you say?” She asked. 

Samson moved quick as lightning as he made the hand seals, the Sheikah way of casting spells, and went up in a puff of red smoke. In his place was a figure in red and black garb with the Sheikah eye covering his white mask. He grabbed for Meriel, yanking her around so the she was face him. 

A hook like blade glimmered in his hand. He hooked it through Meriel’s chest, the blade tearing through her skin like paper. She dropped to the ground, her brown eyes staring lifelessly toward Purah. “Your sister was who we really wanted, _Seka_.”

It had been many a year since she had heard the Sheikah language used to spew foul insults, but she knew who this Samson really was now. She knew whose side he was really on. 

“You and your ilk dig up our heritage now that things have gone sour,” the man who had called himself Samson as he pointed to himself. “When the Hylians were ready to cast us aside you gave up everything our people worked for to give yourselves over to a life of slavery to rotten simpletons.” He flung his arm toward her on the last word, throwing a volley of knives. 

Purah raised the box to her face and heard them thud into the wood, but one of them jabbed into her shoulder, causing her to sink back against the shelf. “You’re the traitor. You turned on your world for the forces of the Calamity,” Purah said. “You’ll see us all destroyed.” 

Samson moved toward her and his whole demeanor was different now. Where his motions had been deliberate, yet human before, they were now smooth and almost catlike. He made no sound as he walked and every movement was fluid. He raised his mask to reveal his face. He was tan skinned and covered in small scars. They looked to be different ages from the coloring of them. His red eyes glared down at her. “You pushed us to the edges of society and defiled our tribe,” he said. 

Purah went for her sword, but he snatched it away and drove it point first into her shoulder, pinning her back to the shelf. She yelped and her vision with blurry with anguish. It was like her chest was on fire, even the act of breathing hurt because it caused the sword to move inside her body. 

As the initial shock wore down she started to cry out, but Samson covered her mouth and held his hand tight. He lifted the box that she had come for. “What is this?” He shook it next to his head. 

When he removed his hand she muttered. “Our future.” 

“You haven’t got a future,” said Samson. 

“And Garold…” managed Purah. “He’ll find this. He’ll return it to my sister and the others.” 

“Garold is already dead. I poisoned his drinking water when I made the canteens,” said Samson.

“The Yiga are despicable…that’s why—.” Purah could feel herself fading, the pain was becoming too much. She saw Samson get down in front of her on his knees and start to unfasten his pants. Her body wouldn’t move without an intense jolt of pain. 

“You know, I’m glad it was you that showed up in a way. Impa is at the end of her life, but it seems you’ve found a way to cheat death.” he said wistfully. “I’ll make sure to tell your sister about your last moments.” He leaned down on the sword jutting out of her chest and rocked it, putting his weight into the hilt. Purah screamed. “I’ll treasure the look on your face for the rest of my life,” he said. 

Samson pulled one of the daggers out of the locked rune box’s lid and held it over her right temple. Purah’s breathing was ragged, he gabbed her at the chin and pulled her face to look him in the eye. “You’ll want to pass out, to die, but I won’t let you just yet. I’ll take my time with you,” he said moving the dagger down the side of her face from the temple until it was just under her chin. 

She grunted through the pain and the fresh, hot blood spilled out over her cheek. Her heart thundered, she hadn’t felt this level of fear, this kind of second wind, in years, One hundred years would make you forget you had been young. It would make you forget what a body is capable of. 

“One of the men who left the tribe,” started Samson, “always talked about how beautiful you were. I see what he was talking about now—apparently you knew, vanity. That’s the only reason you’d do this to yourself,” Samson said. “Well, at least you’ll die beautiful.” 

Purah slipped her loose hand into her pouch fiddling with the screws until she found it. The eye stalk from the guardian. How many times had it attempted to charge? Four? Five? It felt so heavy as she carefully lifted it out of the bag. Robbie had been shocked hours after disconnecting them from the central unit. There had to be something there. Anything. 

The knife danced in the air over her face as Samson contemplated the next cut. He hooked his fingers in her mouth, prying her jaw open and sliding the knife inside against her cheek. Before he could position it how he wanted, she bucked him off and lifted herself up, pushing against the blade the sword sticking out of her body. She slammed the loose wiring of the eye stalk into his neck. He went rigid, his body trembling as the electricity coursed through him. It only took a second for the whole thing to discharge, but he fell to the ground in a heap, his body jerking every few moments from the residual effect. 

Very carefully, she removed the blade from her wound and jammed it into the back of his head, using all her weight to drive it through until it collided with the stone floor. “This is it,” Purah said. “This—hehe—he’s right about one thing, at least I got to die beautiful.” 

Footfalls. She couldn’t so much as hear them as she could feel them. Her body slipped down to the stone floor next to the Yiga imposter. Someone was there. Someone was calling her name. 

And then darkness. 

* * *

* * *

Dry straw cushioned her as awoke to look at the clear blue sky. She was moving in something like a cart. The bumps in the trail made her sway and rock in her bed of hay. Her chest burned slightly, but someone had patched her up. Purah tried to move, she could see the sides of the sun-bleached wooden cart now and there was someone walking alongside it and her. 

“Hey you’re awake!” 

“Garold? He said he’d poisoned you.” Purah said weakly. 

Garold looked confused and worried for a moment, the sun above made him almost a silhouette, but she could see the realization come to his face clear as Lake Hylia. “Shit, he probably poisoned the water he got me.” 

“Will you be okay?” Asked Purah desperately.

He laughed stiffly. “Yeah. I don’t drink water out here. I dumped it out and got some of that potato-wine they serve.” 

“I guess it’d a stroke of luck that you’re an alcoholic.” Purah lay still for a moment and then went to sit up, but the pain pulled her back down. “Did you get it? The box?” 

Garold nodded. “It’s with your things, along with that Samson guy’s mask and some of his belongings. Do you know what his deal was?” 

“He was with the Yiga Clan. They’re followers of the Calamity and Sheikah who turned against the world…” Purah managed. 

“Then yeah, I’m glad I could help for sure. Sorry I didn’t get there sooner. Even sorrier for Meriel,” he said. 

Purah sighed. “I hate to say that it hardly matters. We got the most important thing, though her loss will be honored in some way.” 

“What did you get?” He asked Purah.

“A weapon that can defeat Calamity Ganon and bring an end to Hyrule’s ruin,” Purah said touching the box. 


	2. Withered World

Ocean air cleaved across the deck, whipping damp strands of blonde hair across Lissa’s face. Though she was nearing the middle of her third decade she had been on a ship a grand total of eight days throughout her entire life. Or at least she had before this. It had been weeks since she saw land. The sun was gone again—she had lost exact count of the days. Her sleep cycle had her up throughout the night peering off across the dark waves as the lanterns at the ship’s sides lit the waters with shimmering orange and yellow patterns.

The ship’s sway instilled a real, visceral fear in her that she would never see flat ground again. These men that they had conscripted to transport them across the vast sea had tricked them and sought to only sail them out into the endless blue. Provisions could only last so long. She didn’t dare ask how much longer it would be. 

She watched the endless panorama of the ocean’s horizon for any sign of light or land.

Warm hands caught her shoulder and the small of her back. She gazed over to see a familiar chiseled jawline etched out against the firelight glow of lantern light and the wild, blond spikes of hair billowing like wheat in the field. He kissed her cheek before steering her toward the aft of the ship. 

“You’ll come down with something, Mother,” said Owain. He was one of two children she’d had with Sir Frederick Gwaine. Frederick passed away shortly after their fifteenth anniversary, a victim of The False Eye Plague that engulfed their continent. For the population of Ylisse, it was the first of many divine signs that the royal family had lost the favor of the Divine Dragon.

Lissa shrugged and his hands slipped off of her with a shawl in his grasp. She reached up to pinch it out of his hands. “I’m not some decrepit thing,” she said. “I can care for myself.” 

Could she? Chrom or Frederick or Emm or _someone_ had always been there. After their parents died it seemed that her siblings surrounded themselves with friends for their benefit and hers. But that was years ago, Lissa had been at this alone for a while. She tended to the needs of what remained of her family. Circumstances didn’t care what her role had been, it was be tempered by fire or snuffed out. 

“Grima’s breath…I know you’re just looking out for me, Owain,” she said. There had been so many of them. Her sister died of a mysterious illness, though she lived to meet Lissa’s first born and Chrom’s daughters. Their little clan tried to unite Ylisse and turn it into the place the Warrior King Marth and the First Exalt had wanted it to be. 

Her House’s exile had really been her fault. It was the logical progression of things after Chrom vanished. No one trusted the girl who didn’t carry the Brand of the Exalt lead the country. No one wanted to trust the weak branch of the family tree that descended from a man who abandoned his home. 

Ylisse wanted to be proud the proud nation they once were. Though the previous generation was steeped in blood from the numerous wars, they had been celebrated as the greatest generation. Her people wanted the kind of pride that came from being feared and she wasn’t going to fan the flames of conflict after peace had come at such a cost, so they found someone who would. 

Owain’s eyes followed the movements of the ship’s crew as they worked cleaning the deck. Most of the men were a rough sort with loose fitted clothing of the desert tribes, but there were all manners of people in the mix. Some with skin lighter than him and others reddened in splotches by the sun and others still with the cinnamon colored skin of the Flavians. “Why are they all so well armed?” Asked Owain. 

Lissa hadn’t paid attention, but all different types blades that followed no real conventions were seen throughout the crew. Some had a second sword on their other hip, while others carried ornate weapons beset with jewels. “There could be dangers at sea. Pirates like in the old stories,” she said, though even she sounded unconvinced. 

“They’re more likely to run into a water spout or some sea beast, for which I doubt a few blades will be of much good. You didn’t tell them who we were, did you?” Asked Owain. 

“Gods, Owain, of course not, but with your cousin walking around here with that legendary sword on her hip might cause someone to figure it out.” Lucina, her niece, carried their family’s heirloom sword forged by the Divine Dragon Naga herself: the Falchion. Though it could pass for an ordinary sword, there was some risk that these men might have heard tales of it.

Lissa wasn’t above fighting if it came to that and she had support from her son, daughter, and nieces if it came to it. But she had tired of swinging her axe. It never truly solved anything in the long run. The older Lissa got the more she wondered if her sister’s pacifism would have saved them if they had just adhered to her wishes.

There was the thunderous gallop of small boots on the wood of the deck. A petite girl with her blue hair up in twin-tails landed right in front of Lissa with a rehearsed pose. “When we get there you think it would be awesome if I hit them with this pose and then said something cool like, ‘just who the Hell do you think we are’? Huh, Aunt, Lissa?”

Lissa laughed. “Maybe ease up a bit, Cynthia, we don’t want to scare threaten them, we’ll be in their homeland.” She assumed Cynthia had been speaking about the people of this far off land, the Hylians. She glanced out across the blackness of the sea, ripples of light catching the odd wave here and there. “How much further away could it possibly be?” 

“Oh,” Cynthia said. “I’d offer to take Belfire to scout ahead, but I don’t think even a Pegasus would make it to land at this point. Also, I can’t swim…” 

“And with your sense of direction you’d just end up lost, half-pint.” Owain said mushing his fist down on the top of her head and roughly rubbing his knuckles into her scalp.

Cynthia gritted her teeth, growling out her next set of words. “Ow, cut that out. Aunt Lissa!” 

Lissa covered her mouth with her hand, still clutching the shawl she had stolen back from her son. Owain deftly stepped back as Cynthia swatted at him, but she caught him in the face with her second attempt. She was small and fierce the way her mother had been, but Owain was not without and riposte. The pair had been sparring together since they could hold a stick. 

“This voyage has me a little more than on edge. I wish you would join us below decks—I feel it’s too open out here.” Lucina didn’t make much noise when she moved, despite being in boots and carrying a broadsword at her hip. 

Lucina was her other niece, the oldest of the children, and nearly a carbon copy of Lissa’s brother Chrom. At least when it came to personality. Both she and her sister, Cynthia had inherited their mother’s soft features and warm inviting smile—though Lucina never smiled anymore. 

“If I go back down there I’m likely to go insane” Lissa said. 

“Better to have you insane than dead.” Lucina glanced at her sister and cousin, making sure that their rough housing wasn’t at risk of hitting her. “There are too many weapons up here—something seems off.” 

Lissa had heard it all before. “Do you think the hero of Hyrule can help us?” She asked. 

“I still say that it’s an exaggeration,” Lucina replied. “I won’t believe someone could be that good until I’ve crossed blades with them myself.” 

“Oh, were going to take the throne back yourself without getting hacked to pieces? It’s going to take more than just blood for us to reclaim what was ours.” Lissa said. 

Lucina scoffed. “This Hero is just a bard’s tale from distant shores. No one has heard from Hyrule in over a century. What made them reappear?”

The hollow sound of brass slamming against something hard and heavy shook the silence from the air. It seemed as if it were a signal for an oncoming threat or some form of emergency. Then a man yelled from the uppermost part of the mast. “Land! There’s land hard to port!” 

There, against the darkened purples of the night sky was the jagged, mountainous coastline of their destination. How had they not noticed it? It was massive, stretching the length of the horizon. All Lissa could see was the distant shoreline now. 

“Bring her around!” Yelled the captain. He spoke with an accent that Lissa couldn’t place. 

Lissa fingered the thin chain around her neck that held her wedding ring, spinning rapidly between her hands. “You can ask them when we get there.” 

* * *

* * *

Zelda held a clammy hand to the girl’s forehead, counting the jerky rises and falls of the girl’s chest. It wasn’t speculation anymore, there was a fever present. They would have to deal with that too. 

As an initial test of their new filtration system, Zelda assumed someone would get a glass of water or wash some clothes. What were the chances that someone would go into labor at the very moment her project reached completion? 

This village’s experiment was an automated water-well that fed from its source into a filtration tank filled with gravel, sand, and carbon and stored water for the use of those nearby. These were designs modified by Robbie and herself, but it was mostly guess work based on ancient Sheikah technology. Among the benefits of all this, she hoped it would stave off infections from waterborne pathogens. The blue flame of the pump’s generator stuttered; if there was a time for this system to fail this was not it. 

Zelda eyed the freckled face of her patient and she stared back through fright widened green eyes. The girl’s hair was darkened with sweat and slicked against her cheeks and forehead. Her age was hard to discern, but Zelda was sure of herself being a few years older. 

“What’s your name, petal?” Zelda asks keeping her voice level. 

“C-corinth,” the girl said through a grunt. 

Zelda grabbed her at the shoulder, pushing her flat against the worn mattress. “It’s nice to meet you Corinth, this bound to be memorable day of introductions for both of us,” Zelda let out a small laugh and Corinth smiled in return. The girl’s whole body was too warm.

That wasn’t a thing in the few books she had read on childbirth. A high temperature was rarely a desired omen. They needed something cold to help control the fever. Summer was in its death-throes, but putting up quite a fight. The nearest cool water or ice would be miles up near the peak of Lanayru Mountain. 

Though she knew someone who could make infinite ice at any source of water.

“Link.” Zelda’s thick blonde hair whipped over shoulder as she turned to face her Champion. He stood as far away from the situation as the cramped hut would allow. “Take the Slate out to the river and use the Cryonis rune to make ice, then break it and bring it here; as much as you can carry. We need to cool Corinth down.” 

Link nodded and ran out the door. 

“Is something wrong?” Asked a plump woman with reddened skin and curly, brown hair. Zelda assumed this was The man was skinny and pale with most of his face hidden behind a mustache. 

“She’s running a slight fever.” Zelda said before placing a hand on Corinth’s exposed knee. “I need to check and see how far along you are, is that okay?” The girl nodded. “In the meantime I am going to need you to keep breathing the way I showed you: take nice, slow, deep breaths. In through your nose and out through the mouth.” 

Corinth nodded licking at her chapped lips before letting her head fall back into the bed. “Am I going to be…okay?”

“Everything’s just wonderful,” Zelda said. Flipping back the hem of the girl’s skirts, Zelda checks for signs that they might be entering the next stage. “Breathe. You’re doing lovely, petal.” 

The process became short stints of calming breathing punctuated by sharp, yelps of surprised pain. Zelda took a small bowl of gray liquid with a sponge floating in it. She soaked up some of this liquid and wiped it against Corinth’s lips, dribbling some of it into her mouth.

“What is this?” Corinth asked. 

“I won’t lie; I’ve never given birth, but I can imagine that the pain is about to get worse. This is Ironshroom extract mixed with an elixir to combat that, but I need you to be brave and trust me.” 

Zelda coached her through a few more rounds of relaxed breathing, placing the bowl of extract aside. She repeated the same motions: after the breathing it was time mop the sweat away from the girl’s eyes, she would feed her drops of water from a sponge, and then check her temperature again while reminding her how to breath. Finally she would check to see if there had been in changes in the baby’s status. 

A crowd was gathered outside in stunned silence, Link was forced to push his way through them with two buckets of crushed ice hanging from his hands. “Sorry it took a while, an Octorok popped up out of nowhere and knocked—“ 

“Thank you. Then you should have been more careful,” Zelda said taking the first of the buckets from Link. “Sit the other down here.” Zelda pointed to a spot on the floor against the side of the table. The ice would be too cold to pack directly against Corinth’s skin. Zelda, instead asks for stockings which she fills with ice until they’re stretched and long. She places these around the girl’s shoulders and neck and over her forehead. 

Corinth’s cries were getting louder despite the Ironsrhoom Extract. Zelda stooped down for a hurried check on the baby. Its head had appeared was pressed up against the vaginal opening, but after a moment it will slip back inside and disappear from view. Of course there are fluids and other things present, but Zelda doesn’t think it wise to dwell on that. 

“Corinth, when the baby’s head pushes against the tissue down there you should feel an intense burn,” Zelda said just as the girl let out a deep guttural sound. “We’re going to need to start pushing extra hard. We’re almost there.”

Corinth nodded, gritting her teeth against this next round of pain. 

Zelda guided the baby’s head out, cradling it with her palm. It was much smaller than she expected, much smaller than any human had any right to be. Keeping her touch feather gentle, she wicks the mucilaginous fluid from around the newborn’s eyes, nose, and mouth. The shoulders are out before she even realizes it. Link surrounded the little one with blankets to preserve the body heat as Zelda got down at the foot of the bed to cuddle the baby close.

The child struggled weakly against Zelda as toweled him off. He takes a gasping breath and then cries out in a shrill, gurgling voice. “I need knife,” said Zelda. Link’s hand grabbed for the hilt of the Master Sword and the scabbard rattled as he drew it. “Did you wipe that off after you fought the Octorok?”

Link dropped the sword back into the holster without a sound. The man near the door dashed over and unhooked an ivory handled knife from his belt. He heated the blade up, letting it glow red for just a moment before cooling it in the water. He handed it to Link for her to finish the job, though it is Zelda who directed Link where to cut. 

Zelda cradled the baby in one arm, pulling it up against her breast and resting it in the nook made by the bend of her elbow. She stood to her full height, balancing on her knees for a moment before getting onto her feet. Once she was up the numbed tension of the room seemed to dissipate. The child made small, confused sounds and Zelda, going off instinct or just what she had seen others do with babies bounced her arms and shoulders to placate it. 

“Princess, may I hold him? Corinth asked, her voice is weaker now. 

Zelda could no longer keep the baby from its mother and pressed the him into Corinth’s arms, being sure that the younger girl had hold of him before letting go. The baby’s glossy eyes stared back at Zelda and he flailed against the blankets as she backed away. How could she have missed it before? The left hand was normal, but the right arm ended in what was little more than a nub extending out from the gnarled shape of a hand. There were three fingernails distinct on the flat surface of the appendage: two complete nails and one partial sliver. 

In a last quick motion, Zelda covered the child’s arm up discreetly. “Is there a father we should notify?”

The pale mustached man answered touching the Princess with a work-roughened hand. “I’m the father.” He looked to be twice Zelda’s age and was balding on the top of the head. What hair he had left he had pulled into a slender ponytail. 

“Please, don’t touch me.” Zelda’s words were not angry by any stretch, but they brimmed with the possibility. “My apologies, I had assumed you to be Corinth’s father,” she added. 

“Oh, I am.” 

“Then we are mistaken again. I am looking for the father of the newborn. As part of the naming tradition—“

Zelda is cut off by the mustached man. “I mean, I am both. She’s my daughter and that’s my son.”

“I see.” Zelda said as she washed her hands with hardy soap in a basin of water. She looked to Link. The hero wore his usual scowl, but said nothing. “May I speak to you outside Mister…” Zelda asked.

“Ulysses Cavanaugh.” 

“Mister Cavanaugh, can I see you outside for a moment?” Zelda said. 

Cavanaugh nodded and followed her out, Link trailed them. It wasn’t until Zelda and Cavanaugh are near the tree line that leads out of the village that she stopped. “The Hylian Royal family has been absent for the better part of a century and, perhaps in that absence the world has had to resort to more primitive standards. May I ask, how old is Corinth?” 

“Fifteen.” Cavanaugh said. 

Link leaned against the rock wall that formed the natural barrier around the town with his arms folded. A pair of large dragonflies twirled in front of his face causing him to blow at them absently. 

“At fifteen and freshly into motherhood, she’s had her first menses and is considered a grown woman who can own property and marry, but the law does not allow for close familial intermarriages. It leads to the situation in there.” Zelda explained. 

“The girl is prone to illness and my sister is past her child bearing years…if I was going to keep viable offspring I was out of options.”

“What I am saying is it never was an option.”

“You’re right, you like weren’t nowhere to be found, Princess. You want to show up now and act like we need to abide by some royal’s idea of right and wrong?”

Zelda’s fingers moved at her sides, but she kept her hands pressed against her hips. She breathed the way she had told Corinth to, keeping herself calm. “This isn’t about the royal laws, this is about natural selection. Lacking law enforcement, the law, or education your own instinct should lead you away from copulating with relatives of close blood relation. The reason for this is on that child’s tiny hand in there!” Her own excitement escaped in those last words, but she did nothing to quell it after. 

“I don’t need some hoity-toity girl telling me what to do with my family.” Cavanaugh pressed his fingers into his own chest. “You got that, Princess?” He took a quick step forward, reaching up. Perhaps he meant to get in her face and point, but the blade of the Master Sword appeared between Zelda and Cavanaugh reflecting a partial picture back at each of them. 

Cavanaugh glanced to his side, lowering his hand and staring Link down. In the months since the fall of Calamity Ganon bards had spread the tale, even across the sea. People wanted to be Link or perhaps have their way with him. No one wanted to fight him. 

“Your son has a birth defect that fused part of his limb together,” said Zelda. “This and Corinth’s propensity toward illness could be caused directly by coupling of close blood relatives: brothers, sisters, daughters and fathers. I can’t say I am equipped to enforce this law this time or strip a farther, no matter how questionable his bloodline might seem, away from his children. I am, however, saying,” Zelda reached up and pushed the Master sword down so she was looking Cavanaugh right in the eye again. “Do not let me find out these unions continue or I will be forced to act upon you to the fullest extent of the law.” 

“What am I supposed to say to that?” Cavanaugh asked throwing his hands out to the side. 

Link’s voice is low and isn’t the voice people typically expect out of a man who hasn’t yet seen his twentieth name-day. “You’re supposed to say ‘yes, your grace,’ and bow.” 

* * *

* * *

Keeping her bare breasts clasped behind one arm to conceal them, Zelda bathed in a shallow creek walled off by thick trunked trees that lined its banks. Link was within earshot as always. His back was pressed into the ribbed surface of the tree’s trunk facing off toward the most likely avenue someone would take for an attack. He worked the Master Sword with a whetstone. It was a comforting sort of habit, though the Master Sword had never shown signs of dulling. It kept him from worrying that Calamity Ganon had another trap laying in wait for them. 

“Can you believe that someone would sleep with their own child…a child that they had with their own sister. It’s bloody disgusting is what it is.” Zelda’s hands splashed at the water, slapping the surface in anger. Link peeked around to see her standing with her back to him, her palms skimming the water, interrupting it’s subtle current. Her long blonde hair was silvery with water and hung down to her waist—it had been some time since she had cut it, Link guessed over a century, but most of those years didn’t count. 

“I’m sorry about how I conducted myself. And I am doubly sorry about depriving you from rest in the comfort of a warm bed. I just…I refuse to stay in that place. I couldn’t stand it.” Zelda said. 

Link sighed. “You’re passionate. It’s what people like about you.” 

“People used to think of me as a spoiled scholar. I am the Princess who failed this Kingdom and the things that happen here are my fault. The last one hundred years is my fault,” she said. 

“By that measure, they’re my fault too. Tell me, Princess, who was the hero who lost three of his comrades and nearly died himself? Who is the hero who slept one hundred years while his charge held back evil incarnate?” Link stopped sharpening the sword for enough time to speak and returned to his task. 

Zelda slapped the water again. “I suppose you’re right. It is just hard to reconcile the reality of what I was to do with what happened.” 

“This is the hand we were dealt. Might as well roll with the punches.” Link said. Air all around them fills with electricity and insects chirping nearby are different. Link pulled his shield from its resting place, backing closer to the riverbank to be near Zelda. “Did you hear that?” He whispered.

“I don’t hear anything?” Zelda said. 

A short, feminine figure sprang down from the side of the nearby rocks, bounding toward the two of them with a joyous screech. Link jammed the Master Sword in the soil and dropped his shield as the figure rushed toward him. In the light of the setting sun he can see his suspicions were correct. A blonde woman, shorter than himself with a round face and big blue eyes comes galloping toward him. Her pigtails swing wildly from side to side as she moved in a running, half dancing motion. 

She playfully punched at his abs with small, rapid fire jabs. “Hey there great grand uncle!” She said brightly before her mouth widened into a toothy grin. 

“Linka…how did you find us?” Link asked as he stared down at his niece and only remaining blood relative. 

“Oh. I heard about Miss Zelda’s water thing. I figured you’d have to go back this way and I just kinda searched around.” Linka said. She leaned to the side to see around Link and waved at the Princess, jumping up and down. “Hiya, Miss Zelda!” 

“Linka, it’s good to see you’re well,” Zelda said 

Linka tugged at the ends of her braided pigtails, avoiding eye contact with the Princess. “You know me, Miss Zelda, I’m always well,” she said before giggling. 

“What made you hunt us down in the first place?” Asked Link. 

“Um,” Linka dropped to sit crossed-legged with her back against the tree trunk facing her uncle and the Princess. She removed the only weapons she carried from her person, two large crossbows, and laid them across her lap. “That tall sexy Zora friend of yours just popped out of the water near where I was napping. He asked if I had seen you and said that it was an emergency.” 

“Prince Sidon? I shall change into a set of my extra clothes,” Zelda said. 

Link rolled his eyes. “I like how when she said ‘tall sexy Zora’ you knew exactly who she meant…” 

Behind him he could hear Zelda stepping out of the water and the sound of her wet feet plodding across the grass. “Jealousy’s a bad look on you, Link,” she said. “Did Sidon say where to meet him?” 

“Zora’s domain. If it’s okay Miss Zelda I’d like to come?” Linka asked. 

“We would be honored to have your assistance,” Zelda said. 

Linka’s smile beamed. “You hear that Uncle Link? We’re going on an adventure.” 


	3. A Hint of Fears to Come

The hooves thundered under Link, as he wove through forest following the path. Zelda and Linka were just ahead of him; the dust from their combined wake blotted out any sign of their pursuers, but he could hear the yells of the bandits. 

“They’re gaining!” Link yelled. 

The royal stallions had been bred for their regal beauty; Link hoped it had inherited enough stamina to carry both the Princess and his niece. He held the rear, purposefully lagging behind and drawing the ire of their pursuers. Linka was at the back of the horse with her arms wrapped about Zelda’s waist. 

Linka glanced back at Link with a gleam in her eye. _Goddess, what is she planning to do now?_

“Switch, Miss Zelda!” Before Zelda could reply, Linka clambered around her side, snaking her way up between Zelda’s arm and knee. 

“He-hey, what are you doing?” Zelda’s question sounded more like a thinly veiled protest. 

“Helping!” Linka used the saddle and Zelda herself as footholds and handles. Their limbs were a jumble of movement now. Zelda was forced to grab hold of her.

A stray elbow hit Zelda in the face as an arrow whizzed past. “It feels like the opposite,” Zelda said. Linka’s foot almost hit Zelda in the face as she lifted one leg over the Princess to straddle her. 

“Sorry!” 

“Whatever this plan is do it now, Linka!” Link yelled.

Linka was facing backwards and sitting in Zelda’s lap on their shared horse. She drew the crossbows from her boot holsters and pulled her hood up to keep the glare and dust out of her eyes. She rested the crossbows on Zelda’s shoulders aiming into the trailing cloud of dust. 

Link shook his head, but there was little time to dwell on the absurdity of the situation. Two arrows zipped past him coming from behind. Linka pulled Zelda to the side narrowly dodging the shots. He glanced over his shoulder to see the culprit, a large bear of a man brandishing the biggest long bow Link had ever seen. 

With a deft swing of the Master Sword in a quick arc, Link sent a swirling blue wave of energy back to hit the man in the chest. The line where the energy passed into the man crackled for a moment and his horse slowed. An explosion of blue light ripped into his chest spraying bloody chunks into the air. The bandit toppled off of his horse, disappearing into the dust. 

Link had little patience for bandits. 

Linka shut one eye to better zero in on the moving forms within the cloud. She loosed bolts from both crossbows. Two strained yelps told her she had hit her mark. She pumped her fist into the air. “Got one!” She said letting out a celebratory laugh Her movements caused her to bump the Princess in the face; Zelda’s eyes narrowed and her face reddened, but she said nothing. 

“Stay focused, Linka!” Link yelled. Flaming arrows sailed over his shoulders, passing on either side of him and finding their mark in the ground just short of the hooves of Zelda’s stallion. Link spun, charging another round of energy from the Master Sword. When the sword started to glow he sent a swirling blue blast back into the bandits. 

“Link!” Zelda’s voice up ahead called his attention back and he spots the source of the worry in her voice. A hulking beastly Lynel walked along a ridge in the distance. Link was certain that at the rate they were going with the sound they were making, they would be spotted in seconds. 

Zora’s Domain was to the north up the path being blocked by the Lynel. The bandits seem to not be aware of the creature as they begin to fire arrows faster, aiming wildly and peppering the ground around Zelda and Linka. 

Linka leaned to the side to let Zelda see where she was steering. The horse dug into the dirt as they turned sharply. “We’re taking a detour!” Zelda yelled. 

“On it” Link pulled off to the side of Zelda and Linka, he fired another blast backward. They rode for a bridge to the south, they’d would lose the bandits and loop back around to avoid the Lynel. No point in endangering the Princess or forcing a fight for no reason. 

An explosion rained down debris on Zelda and Linka as their horse galloped onto the bridge. The wooden slats that made up the bridge vibrated and shifted, with some of them falling into the river below. “How the Hell do they plan to rob us when we’re in pieces?” Link asked.

“I think you made them mad, Uncle Link.” 

“We’re not going to make it!” Zelda screamed. Another explosion went off. And another on the bridge itself. Splinters peppered Link’s chest and he barely had time to raise his arm to cover his face. His horse let out a sharp, high pitched whinny as Link was tossed into the air. 

_Zelda._ Time itself seemed to slow down. Link scanned the area to locate the Princess and his niece. Water below them. Zelda was just out of reach. They tumbled toward the dark waves head first. Linka was missing. Had she escaped somehow? She was safe. Had to be. 

Link had to get to Zelda. Had to make sure that she landed okay. The water was deep enough, wasn’t it? 

Blood streaked water thrashed him around. The mangled mass of what had been his horse was near him when he surfaced. That last explosive arrow must have been on top of him. His arm stung in a way that told Link that he had been injured. The sediment in the water was searing through his open wound. 

“Link!” Zelda called just before water filled her mouth. She swam up to Link, wrapping her arms around him. “Link, you’re hurt!” 

He felt numb, but Zelda tugged his body away, swimming for the river bank with Link in tow. The Princess got him out onto the mud at the river’s edge, she cradled his head in her lap. 

“Linka…” he managed. 

“I-I didn’t see her fall. She must have come down somewhere else or…” 

As if on cue four Octorok balloons exploded to the surface of the river with Linka laying atop them coughing violently. Her crossbows were clutched tight in her hands and her green cloak was soaked down to her person. 

Link heard Zelda’s voice, but it didn’t seem to be coming from her. “Linka! He’s hurt—I think it’s bad.” 

“Use that Mipha spell,” Linka coughed. 

Men were shouting from somewhere higher up. The bandits were clambering down the side of the hill, coming for them. Link could see the edges of his vision glowing white hot. Things blurred together and it was hard to make out Zelda’s face right above his. 

“Uncle Link! You’ve got to snap out of it! Uncle Link!” 

* * *

* * *

The Falchion’s blade rang as Lucina deflected blow after blow a pair of the grunts that worked this ship. They had been at sea for sometime and any weariness she’d felt from the battles in Yilsse passed. This pair of men was getting a chance to face her without the weight of fatigue holding her back. 

Their strikes were weaker than hers and she wondered if they had been goading her into dropping her guard, but the longer this went on the more she realized she could put them on the defense. Stepping closer in to the nearest of them she bumped him with her shoulder, sending him stumbling to the deck. When the other man looked to the side, she sliced across his leg, bringing him down on one knee. Lucina wasted no time dealing a devastating slash across the second man’s face and then moving to finish off the one on the ground. 

This is what Owain and Lucina had feared would happen, though it was not the Falchion that had presented the problem. One of the men had spotted the Shield of Seals--their Fire Emblem—and recognized it from the stories of old. Lucina struck him down when she caught him trying to steal it igniting the current battle. 

“We stay here and we’re not going to be able to hold long,” said Emily. In a flash of blonde, ringlet curls she swung her her war hammer in a horizontal arc. There was a resounding crunch as the blow connected with one of their attackers and he was thrown to the floor. Emily looked much the same as her mother had at that age. She did have Frederick’s stern gaze, but the rest of her was Lissa. 

“Close the gaps and stick together,” Lissa said. “You’ve got this, sweetie.” She added glancing at Emily just before someone rushed to attack her. Lissa’s axe went up, the pole blocked the sword blow and she was able to push them away from her. 

“Aunt Lissa is right, everyone on me! We press through!” Lucina yelled as she blocked an axe with the Shield of Seals, pushing the projectile off to her side and into the wood of the deck. “There’s got to be an opening somewhere here…” she muttered. 

The sound of large wings beating at the air was followed by the thunderous crash of Belfire the Pegasus as Cynthia guided her massive mount down to land on the deck. With a few deft jabs with her lance, she felled two men and began laying into another. The opening she created allowed and the Wyvern, Minerva, to land in the narrow space left by the attack. 

Minerva’s rider, Gerome, drew back on the reins to draw the beast up onto her haunches. He twirled the axe in his hand expertly, allowing the weight of the head to carry the weapon to a higher velocity before bringing it down to cleave a man nearly in two. Gerome eyed Lucina and Lissa. 

Owain’s back was pressed into Lucina’s as he blocked a savage blow from one of their assailants. “You probably won’t get as good an opening as this again,” he said through his teeth as he looked back at his cousin over his shoulder. 

“He’s right,” A man said smiling as his dark devil-may-care mane of hair caught the seaside breeze. “If I must die, milady, one’s glad that it’s going to happen surrounded by the fairest maidens in all the world.” 

“Now’s not the time, Inigo,” she said. There was a chance that they could make it if they swam for it, but not all of them. The boat had dropped anchor a few leagues from shore; the dark mountains of what they had been told was Hyrule stretched as far as she could see. There’d be no chance we can take control of the ship with their smallest numbers, not without some losses. 

Lissa raised one hand with a tome clutched close to her chest in the other. She spoke the incantation and circles of yellow light danced around a group of men moving toward them. Fire engulfed them a moment later, with a splash of liquid-y orange magical residue splattering across the deck as their screams filled the air. 

“Mother, don’t burn the ship down!” Owain yelled. 

“There it is, go!” Lucina cut them off and charged into the fray. The others followed her with Gerome and Cynthia covering their flanks. Lissa did another cast of fire, dragging her axe behind her as she ran. Her target, an archer taking aim at Cynthia, erupted in flames and fell to the ground writhing.

“It’s hopeless for you!” Came the voice of the captain. His words somehow came out nasally and deep at the same time, almost in this mocking sneer. “Your father named you Lucina—no doubt because you were meant to be a light. Don’t make me snuff you out, little one.” 

Despite herself Cynthia shivered at the sound of his voice. She roared at the top of her lungs, feeling the blood thunder through her veins and the wind rush through her hair. “Never—Cynthia, boost!” Cynthia swooped down, holding her lance out to the side in front of her sister. Lucina bounded and bounced off of it with her sword held back as she soared toward the first of the crewmen. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” She yelled. 

Her sword staggered the other man’s weapon and she landed in his chest knee first, crumpling him to the ground and causing his back and chest to crunch between her weight and the deck. In a whirl of motion, dry throated battle cries she whirled about through the men who rushed her striking them down. 

The others carved a path to her, Owain and Inigo came to her side, keeping too many blows from landing—and some did. Lucina was cut across the arm and the thigh, but she fought on. 

Lissa froze, her feet planted on the sea-worn wooden planks as she watched the carnage. Lucina was her father, he was Chrom all over again—maybe worse. There was nothing of the curious young girl she had once known, there was just a warrior. The dull side of a cold, slender blade caught Lissa at the throat. “It looks like things will have changed now.” 

“Please—call your men off,” Lissa said. 

“What?” For the first time the captain seemed truly taken aback. 

“Call your men off and my people will bring you back something as valuable as the Fire Emblem,” she explained. 

“And where will you be?” 

“I’ll be your prisoner until they comply.” 

The captain smiled. “You’ve got a deal.” 

* * *

* * *

The Octorok balloons were leathery and tough, with thick rubbery bumps dotting them. They were not the kind of thing that Linka enjoyed having in direct contact with her skin, but she preferred it to drowning. Swimming wasn’t a skill that a cucco shepherd needed. 

Her head was pounding. She had spit up what felt like several gallons of water. Uncle Link and Miss Zelda were in trouble. On the shore she could see them pressed together in the shadow of the bridge. The bandits were coming for them and Link’s arm was a mess of blood and torn skin. 

She yelled again. Yelling didn’t seem to be having the desired effect. Linka moved against the balloons paddling until she hit the shallows nearer to the bridge and rolling off of her makeshift lifesaver. She brandished her bows, aiming them out to either side of her person as she landed on bended knee. The bandits were scaling the rock face near the side of the bridge and dropping down on ropes. Some of them used little cloths to glide down. 

One of them was already on her. How’d she miss him? He was a burly man with yellowing skin and hairy arms. He tackled her to the ground, grabbing her by the throat. “You caused us a lot of trouble, killed some men too.” He bellowed. 

The bandit was huge and he could have crushed her throat if he applied even the slightest bit of extra pressure. That wasn’t what he wanted, not yet. 

He ran his thumb over her lips. “You look good enough to eat and we might just take turns. But I want him,” the bandit pointed at Link. “The men always struggle the most and it makes it feel that much better.” 

When he glanced away Linka bucked up, binding his arm with her legs. She jerked against his elbow joint with all of her weight until a stiff snap reverberated through her body. The bandit cried out struggling to free his trapped arm, but before he could she fired a round of bolts into his exposed stomach. 

Using her legs to redirect him, Linka cast the bandit aside with the bolts still peppering his abdomen.

“Linka!” Zelda’s scream called attention to the sinewy man with a rag on his head charging at her. No time to load another cartridge, Linka snatched a bolt from the dead body next to her, pulled it back just enough to catch the mechanism, and fired. The shot tore into the man’s neck, ripping out a chunk on the side and causing blood to spill out over his tunic. 

“Woohoo,” Linka shouted throwing her arms up. She retrieved fresh cartridges from her belt and shoved them into the bows, locking them in place. “I’m okay, Miss Zelda,” she added waving. 

“Look out!” 

“Oh!” Linka screamed as she dodged a sword swing so narrowly that the blade hit one of her pigtails. She tumbled back, landing in a squatting position with her crossbows at the ready. The two shots she fired each found their mark in his knees. Her attacker hit the ground, falling flat on his face. She walked over, putting one foot on top of him and and shooting two more arrows into the back of his head. 

“This is easier when I’m not riding in somebody’s lap.” Linka said absently as she watched the final assailant parasail down on a piece of cloth. She secured one of the crossbows into her boot holster and brought the other close to her face. With a flick of her fingers, Linka lifted the sight ladder adjusting it as best she could for the distance of her target. 

With the stock of the crossbow resting on her cheek, Linka took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger. The final bandit jerked to one side and plummeted from his parasail. 

She jumped onto the Octorok balloons, surfing them with the current the short distance to the other bank where Zelda and Link were. “How’s he doing?” 

“He might have been dazed by that last explosion and his arm is…” Zelda’s eyes turned down toward the injured and then back up at Linka. “I don’t know what we’re going to do about his arm.” 

Linka dropped to her knees next to Uncle Link. “Yeah, he can’t bleed out. Not a fitting place for the Champion of Hyrule to die,” she rambled as she patted around Link’s belt and pack for what she knew had to be there. “Uncle Link always has some…Hyrule Herbs.” She pulled out a bundle of the green leafy herbs tied together with a bit of string. 

“Thank the Goddess,” Zelda said taking the herbs from Linka and starting to ball them up. “Do you have a bowl?” 

Linka patted her hands around her waist searching for anything that can be used as a bowl or small container to put herbs in. “I’ve got a little cup.” 

Zelda took the cup from her pulled a dagger from her own belt. Holding the dagger at the highest part of the hilt, she wraps it in her vest to keep the blade from getting her. She used the hilt of the dagger to mash the herbs into a thick, green paste that smelled vaguely astringent. “Hold out the arm,” Zelda instructed Linka. 

Linka did as she was told, grabbing her uncle under the shoulder and holding his arm out so that it was exposed. Zelda smeared the paste on all of the open wounds, pushing the skin back into place with her bare fingers to make sure that there was nothing to snag. 

Hyrule Herb was astounding for it’s healing properties. If a wound didn’t kill you, it would make you good as new. Just rubbing it on could remove blemishes, stretch marks, small cuts and scratches…it was a miracle. Linka had been in her fair share of scrapes that required it during her time watching the cuccos back on her farm. They would eat the herb for its ability to heal and keep them healthy—they even taught their young to eat it. 

“We won’t make it to the Zoras at this rate, where is the nearest piece of civilization?” Zelda asked. 

“Um, there’s a stable nearby. I think.” Linka scratched at her forehead, looking to the skies for any signs of where they were. The ravine on either side of them blocked much of the surrounding countryside. 

Zelda pushed went to push Link, lifting him just enough to get her arm under him. “Help me get him. Come on.”

Linka scrambled to the other side of her uncle, pulling his arm over her shoulders to take most of the weight off Zelda. As she hoisted him with her knees Zelda let out a sharp cry. Linka peered over at the Princess and immediately saw the source of the problem.

“We used the last of the healing salve. I’ll be…I’ll be no good.” Zelda’s hand curled protectively around along, slender shard of wood that jutted out of abdomen. When the bridge exploded she must have been hit.

“You’re supposed to keep that red stuff on the inside, Miss Zelda.” Linka said all too calmly. She pulled Link harder, letting him fall over her back so he was laying horizontally on her shoulders and the stood up, grunting slightly under his weight. “I can do this for a bit, I’m stronger than I look.”

“Just leave me here. Come back for—it’ll be…” 

Linka cut Zelda off. “This is no place for a Princess to die either; now get your royal ass up.”

* * *

* * *

The stable stood at the edge of the blueish glow of a nearby shrine. Torches lined the road as they approached, Zelda limping and holding her side while Linka struggled under the weight of Link. Maybe she could carry the Champion under normal circumstances, but with a shield and gear the added weight took its toll. 

Each step Zelda managed was a deeper pain, the stick didn’t seem to have gotten deep. She didn’t like the idea of having a piece of worn wood protruding out of her either. And the blood loss couldn’t be easily helped. 

The fenced in area for the horses meant that they had to stagger their approach, plotting a corse where the barriers would let them walk. A figure was in the field near a group of horses. Linka called out. “Ahoy there!” 

The person bolted upright, searching the moonlit surrounding area. 

“We could use some help!” Linka added. 

Fires burned bright all around the stables; light warded off what was left Ganon’s forces. The same couldn’t be said for bandits and raiders. Each stable had a small contingent of guards assigned to it. They were contracted out by a company owned by Bolson. After his company constructed the village where Link now resided he started mercenary groups to protect people re-settling the wilderness of Hyrule. 

One of these guards immediately recognized Link. “It’s the champion,” said the blonde Hylian guard as she rushed to meet them. The bulky shape of the shield on her thin frame made her look boxy. She hefted Link off of Linka’s shoulders while two more guards came up on the sides of Zelda to assist her. 

“Thank you for you fast hospitality.” Zelda managed, her hand still pressed to the side of her body. 

“Not a problem, really—I’m Mina, the hero here reduced my brother and I from some Bokoblins a while back. I might not be here today if not for him,” said the guard. 

Zelda nodded. “If we could ask for one more piece of assistance, we’ll be needing lodgings and accommodations for the night.” 

“That’d be Miss Gaile.” Another guard said. 

“May we speak to her?” Zelda asked.

“She’s right here.” Gaile was a shapely woman with a dull copper tone to her skin and red hair was pulled into two ponytails. She wore a white blouse with a earthy brown skirt and something about her features told of a distant Greudo lineage. Nothing about her was huge, but she filled the frame of the door to the stable interior with a body that looked feminine and yet stout from years of field work. 

“My uncle is injured,” Linka said still drinking in deep breaths. “His girlfriend here isn’t doing much better.”

Zelda stared daggers into Linka. “We were attacked on the road—we fought them off, but there were some injuries.” 

“Y-you’re Princess Zelda—“ Gaile dropped to one knee and bowed her head. “Get them whatever they need.” She ordered without raising her head. 

Link was put into a bed in a room that shared a wall with the hearth, the warmth radiated through the small cabin he was in until the room was a comfortable temperature. 

In a small back room stacked high with ledgers and loose papers, Gaile set up some extra chairs. When Zelda and Linka joined her in the room she opened a woven box to reveal various herbs and mixed elixirs. “Your friend will he have the best care I can give him. You have my word, Your Highness.” 

“Thank you.”

“Can I have something to eat. Like, anything. I was carrying bread but it got all wet when I went into the water.” Linka pulled out a small satchel filled with mashed, soaked bread. 

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Gaile said. 

“Linka. That’s my uncle in there with the hurt arm.”

“I see.” Gaile said. “Let me get the Princess patched up and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Okay.” 

“Princess, you’ll have to excuse my forward ness,” Gaile’s face reddened the deeper into the sentence she spoke. “May I ask that you remove your clothes, at least the shirt? I might need to touch you to do what I am going to do…”

“I wouldn’t have expected anything else,” Zelda said, struggling to talk through the pain. “This is the second set of clothes I’ve lost in less than a day.” 

Gaile smiled. “I’m sure there is something around here that we can lend you—I mean give.” She helped the Princess undo her pants and lowered them just enough to get at the bottom hem of her shirt. The wood was sticking through the fabric, so raising it up over her head would be too much of a problem. “We’re going to have cut this part of the shirt away.” 

Zelda nodded. 

Gaile went to work with a pair of large sheers, cutting a line down the side of the abdomen of the shirt. Zelda’s exposed skin was warm to the touch, and her skin was stained with blood. “I may need your help to get this out of her.” 

Linka came to Zelda’s side, touching her on the shoulder. “How are we going to do this?” Linka asked. 

“Pull it straight out and then put pressure on it,” Zelda suggested. 

Gaile nodded. “You hold her down, keep her steady against the wall here.” Gaile rifled through the woven box to find a short stick. She wrapped this with gauze until it was plush pill shape and handed it to Zelda. “Bite down on this.” 

Zelda did as she was told, bracing the makeshift mouthguard in-between her teeth. Linka held the Princess in place as Gaile tested the piece of wood with her finger. The last thing that she wanted to do was start to tug at it and have it snap deeper inside of the body; Zelda could feel it moving as one ridged solid piece and Gaile must have surmised the same. 

The guttural scream Zelda let out was so foreign to her. Gaile was holding the blood soaked length of stick up, examining it. “We’ll get some herbs and healing solution on there after we clean it up.”

The stable boss went to work wiping the skin down, pausing every so often to look at the Princess. Zelda couldn’t place the expression or what the other woman was thinking, but there was a quality about her that made Zelda nervous. Not that she felt there was any danger to be had, but there was something else going on here. 

Gaile’s hands were like full grain leather as she moved them over Zelda’s stomach. There was a warmth and an adept nature to her movements that had only just begun to show when cleaned the wound with jellied concoctions that stung and smelled of grain alcohol. With her thumb and index fingers on either side of the wounds she moved the opening in the skin back and forth trying to extract any little bits of wood. 

Before long she was stitching the small hole up, dipping the needle in a paste of Hyrule Herb after every few motions through the Princess’s skin. “It’s remarkable how that doesn’t hurt. I just feel…pressure.” 

“It’s remarkable you made it. Sir Link could have lost his arm from that wound if it weren’t for quick thinking.” Gaile paused to examine her work, eyeing the small opening closely. “You know I heard the guard outside, Mina, I don’t think there’s a person alive in Hyrule who didn’t encounter Link at least once.”

“Really?” Zelda said through her teeth as the needle dug into her skin to break through. “What’s your story of meeting him?”

“He was going to Goron City and I saw how he was dressed and told him ;well, you’ll only get a few markers in before you burst into flames dressed like that,’ so I sold him some elixirs to protect him.” Gaile smiled up at Zelda. “How very business-like of me.” 

“Mmhm, you might have a different tale to tell then—most people would talk of how the hero saved them. You may have very well saved him,” Zelda said. 

“Yeah, but look where it got us—not that I’m not thankful for what you’ve all done. It’s just the damn bandits are getting worse,” Gaile said. “Almost makes me miss the monsters.” 

“What are they doing?” Asked Linka. 

Gaile looked up at her through huge blue eyes, her expression softening as she seemed to forget the task at hand. “Maybe…oh, a moon back or so there was this family making their way down the path with a little wagon. They do that from time to time; the wagon would have fresh baked rolls and pies and whatnot. Nothing more valuable than the eggs, milk, flour, and sugar it took for them to make it. Well, the family didn’t come for a while. Thought nothing of it, people don’t have to do the same thing. Turns out that they were burned alive by bandits.” 

“Goddess. Why?” Asked Zelda. 

Gaile shook her head and went back to her stitch work. “Can’t tell you that. But they didn’t just burn them. They did stuff to them too. Strung the dad up and took his skin like a raccoon. Pumped arrows into the kids like they were for target…” she stopped herself there, the stitching being done. Carefully, she tied the whole thing off and wrapped some gauze over it. 

Zelda was frozen on the corner of the chair. How could the kingdom have resorted to this? How could they continue this with the threat gone? “I thought that with the Calamity abated that people would come around. Hyrule was supposed to get a new lease on life.” Zelda said. 

Gaile shrugged. “Ganon didn’t bring evil into the world. At least with the fiends we could keep them at bay with the light. Only once in a blood moon would some of them creep close enough to the stables to be a worry. Bandits aren’t scared of light and they kill and maim for more sinister reasons than to eat.” 

It had never occurred to Zelda that there might be some fall out to fixing things. Of course the Yiga Clan was known to be opposed to it this was different. The world was supposed to be how it had been before. With Ganon gone there was no reason for people to continue to be at each others throats. 

Gaile got to her feet and moved past Linka to clean her hands in a small basin. “If you’re ready, we can get something in that stomach of yours.” She said forcing a smile. 

Linka nodded. “Thanks. And thanks for helping my uncle and his friend.” 

There was a gleam of something in Gaile’s eyes. “Your uncle and his friend saved the entire world—the world just doesn’t appreciate it yet,” she said. “They’ll come around.” 


	4. Memory

A violent crackle of thunder shook Link awake and his eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling causing him to jolt upright. Hollow pain filled his head from the sudden movement and his arm still stung, though it was wrapped with bandages and dried Korok leaves slathered with an herbal mixture to help it heal. This was Zelda’s handiwork. He’d be fine the move it by morning. 

His pack, shield, and the Master Sword stood propped against the wall across from the bed. This particular room was not known to him, but he knew from the look of it that he was in one of the many stables that dotted the landscape of Hyrule. The dark boot-worn floors and simmering stew and ale gave it away. 

The haze that blotted out the world around him dissipated slowly. He spied the door shut tight and bolted shut and felt the weight of someone else on bottom corner of the bed. Zelda. She sat on the bed with her back turned toward him. The golden glow of the candlelight gave her a dreamlike appearance, but he knew himself to be awake. 

He must have made a sound, because as if she sensed him she spoke. “Your niece is having dinner. Your arm will be fine come morning.” 

Link watched her eyes for any subtle changes in expression. “Are you okay?” 

Zelda turned at the waist with small, jerky motions in an attempt to combat the pain caused by movement. “Really, I am. You got the worst of it.”

“How did you escape?” Asked Link.

“Linka finished them off. It is worrisome—more so than I would have imagined—” Zelda’s voice got low suddenly. “—how much of an effect Ganon had on this world. People, even honest, good people have hardened their hearts to survive.” 

As she spoke, Zelda turned sideways more and Link could see her. The side of her face was darkened by a bruise, more than likely sustained from the bandits. Over the past several months he had caught split second sights something new in her. She didn’t seem like the princess he had seen in the memories; she definitely wasn’t the princess he had first met after the Calamity’s end. 

“It’s made them more capable. Not the worst thing.” Link said. 

Zelda dragged one knee up onto the bed and bent it under her. “Be that as it may, we cannot enact much change on this world. The lowborn nor _Champions_ and _Fabled Princesses of Destiny_ live forever—our lives can only encompass a finite list of feats.” She was facing him with her body now, but her face was staring intently toward the foot of the bed. Her slender finger made slow circles on the bedsheet. 

“Is everything…okay, Princess?” 

Zelda nodded, though she was holding her mouth shut. She glanced to the side as if not looking Link would protect him from knowing the truth and hearing the sadness in her voice. “This is not the world we expected to get. We are said to have saved Hyrule, but have we really? Calamity Ganon’s influence is everywhere. I can taste it in the back of my throat,” she said grabbing the bottom of her hair and pulling it to her nose. “I swear I can smell him in my hair; no matter what—it won’t scrub clean.” Zelda took a deep breath. 

Stunned silence crowded out the air in the room. “Listen, you were in that…place with him for one hundred years. That’s not easy.” 

He saw a droplet falling down past the side of her chin though she was facing away from him. Her leg was wet with tears, but she still tried to hide. “Do you know—“ she sniffled. “Do you know what he said to me at the end.” Link shook his head and she continued. “He knew you were coming. He knew this battle had been fought over and over and over again. He just spoke right inside of me, right in here.” Zelda touched her chest, holding her hand flat over her heart. “He said ‘when you crumble up a piece of parchment it’s never the same again, this time Princess of Wisdom I don’t ever think you’ll be free of the wrinkles’.”

Zelda leaned into him, her body falling against him as he lay in the bed. The sudden jolt sent pain rippling through his arm. He stifled his reaction and wrapped his arms around Zelda. She glanced up at him for a beat and then pressed her lips to his hungrily. Her hands wrapped around his wrists, pinning his arms to the bed. His wound burned, but he didn’t push back or fight her off. 

Her mouth was pressed to his for a long time and, though he hadn’t smelled it, he could taste souring wine on her tongue. She pulled her lips back, but kept her face right above his with her hair hanging down around them like blonde curtains. Zelda’s big blue eyes studied him before she set up on the bed. Link couldn’t believe there was a time where he had forgotten the woman in front of him. He had forgotten his best friend and everything that she stood for. 

He worried it could come again, that by some cruel turn of fate he could look at Zelda and not know who she was. Zelda dried her eyes on her sleeve and darted over to unbolt the door and slip out. She peeked back at him through the crack as the door closed with her cheeks a deep shade of crimson. He scanned her rapidly through that sliver in the door, committing every contour of her face to memory.

* * *

* * *

When the others made land fall Cynthia and Gerome were waiting at the edge of the surf. They had both dismounted and they helped the others out of the small boat. It had been provided by the captain to complete the seemingly impossible task that Lissa had promised. _Find something more valuable than the Fire Emblem and bring it back?_

“Let me help, Sissy.” Cynthia grabbed Lucina around the shoulders to help her up and was shoved roughly for her it. Cynthia landed on her butt at the water’s edge with a small splash. “What the Hell?” 

“Just leave me alone!” Lucina struck out, her boots sloshing through the shallow waters. A half dozen steps from the boat she fell onto her knees, letting the Falchion drop into waves. “How could she know this? How could she…” the tears streamed down her face and she wiped them with her sleeve. 

Emily was crying with her face pressed into Owain’s chest, he held his sister tight, but the expression on his face made it apparent he had no idea what to do. The others stood at the water’s edge with grim expressions. 

Finally, Inigo made his way to Lucina’s side. “Come, love, we don’t need to bring him something valuable—what we need to do is put him to the sword.” 

“He’s right,” Cynthia said. “Aunt Lissa is strong. She can last a while—I’ll fly out and we’ll find something that we can use to surprise them! What those dick-noses need is a little justice with a side portion of ass kicking!” 

Owain glared over at her. “Dick…noses?” 

Gerome was staring at his boots as if there were some mastery to be solved on their surface. “Cynthia is terrible at cursing, but she’s right. We need to plan.” 

Lucina punched her fist into the water, grabbing up the hilt of her sword. “I have a plan—I’ll take everything from them. I’ll kill that Captain Bernard with my bare hands, Grima be damned.” 

Owain shrugged. “Or, you know, we could engage in more of the casual murder we seem to find ourselves resorting to—that does seem to solve most of our problems.” 

Lucina sighed, trying to hold back more tears as she rose to her feet. Water dripped from her cloak. “I don’t mean we just go back there. They expect us to come back with something, so we need to find a stand in. Cynthia, take to the skies and fly West, but stay within sight of us.”

“Aye, aye, Sissy.”

“Owain and I will follow behind you on the ground—you report back to us every two hours,” Lucina said. “The rest of you,” she paused to point to a high ridge overlooking the bay where the ship had loosed its anchor. “Discreetly take positions up there and make they don’t try to pull anything.” 

“I’ll be sure to console fair Emily,” Inigo said. 

“Come on now, mate,” Owain said. 

Lucina stepped past him and got in Inigo’s face. “If I come back and find that any part of you touched any part of her, that’ll be the part I chop off.” 

Cynthia laughed nervously. “Oh boy, I’ve only got two hours before I have to come back. Better get started.” She gave a little half hearted salute and charged through the surf headed for Belfire. 

Owain took his sister’s shoulders in his hands. “Don’t worry, Mom will be okay. She’s always okay.” 

“You said the same of father once; where is he now?” 

The words seem to bite at Owain, his face tightened. “This is different. We’ll save Mom. I promise.” 

* * *

* * *

“Mmm,” Linka asked slurping broth from her spoon. “You made this?” She asked. 

Gaile moved through the room straightening up a few of the trinkets and knickknacks that sat in various areas around the room. “Mmhmm, it’s no big secret really. Prime cuts of bear meat, fresh milk, vegetables, goat butter and Tabantha Wheat are the basis of the stew. The trick is in how you cook the bear, you have to treat it like mix between pork and beef—keeps the grease content down.” 

Linka nodded before bringing the spoon up to her mouth to test another bite to see if it was cool enough to eat. It stung at the tip of her tongue and she dropped the utensil into her bowl. “It’s really good, but still a bit too hot.” 

“Fresh food is generally hot,” Gaile said, pushing her hair away from her cheeks. There are splotches of red running through her freckles on her from all of the smiling. She hadn’t stopped smiling yet. “Give it a moment to cool.” 

“I’m super hungry.” 

“Do you travel with your uncle often?” Asked Gaile. 

Linka shrugged, her cloak spreading apart in the center from the shoulder movement. “We only met a while ago. He was asleep for a long time,” Linka said. 

Gaile leaned forward, smiling. “Everyone knows that story.” 

“Yeah, my mah used to tell me about how we were part of the same bloodline as the Champion. She told me about how he vanished one day and left our land at the mercy of Ganon—she gave me this name in the hope that I’d be…well, it’s kind of obvious.” 

A trio of men wandered into common area, one with tan skin, except one of his arms that was spotted with lighter patches. His face was shrouded behind a dark cloak. With him were two male companions: a blonde and a red head. They stood to his side talking loudly. “There’s a healthy amount of scrap out in the Blatchery Plains, when you’re on the way to Hateno Village.” The redhead said. 

“No one is going near that place. No telling what could wake one of them things up or what happened out there.” Said the blonde one. 

The clerk behind counter stepped in and accepted the small bag of scrap and the third of the men said. “That’s where I’m heading next. Never seen so many of the things in one place like that!” 

Linka knew the spot they were talking about. Outside of Fort Hateno there were dozens of defunct Guardians rusted from their exposure to the elements over the past century. It was the place where her uncle almost lost his life one hundred years ago. She had heard that much, though there were never any details given to her about exactly what happened. 

Gaile’s speaking drew her attention back. “Judging by the fact that you’re the only one of your group who isn’t injured, I’d venture to say you know your way around a fight.” 

“I’m just lucky. I’ve always been lucky.” Linka said taking a bite of a piece of bread. 

A smile spread over Gaile’s face. “I’ll tell you who I think is lucky: me. I’ve got not one, but two Champions right now. Any trouble that wants a piece of me had better look out.” 

Linka is shoveling food into her mouth, letting the peppery broth flow down the back of her throat. “I wish.” 

“What do you mean ‘this is all their worth’?” The man who had brought the bag of scrap pounded a fist into the counter, leaning in close as he spoke. 

The clerk shrugged. “Everyone fancies themselves a treasure hunter now. You lot buy some fancy armor and come in here to rent horses expecting to be the one to make that big find.”

“The going rate is twenty rupees. I’m not just some pompous gelding who thinks this is easy money,” said the cloaked man.

“Rate’s going down due to the influx of junk like this.” The clerk ran his fingers through the bits and bobbles they’d brought. Clearly this was a conversation he knew too well. There was only so much junk that they could take in to a small place like this and only so much of it would be worth their while to attempt to sell. Ganon’s forces had been pushed to the fringes of the wilderness and it was much easier to travel between two places, which meant that there were more people finding scrap. 

Linka eyed the three men over her shoulder and then stared at Gaile. 

“Give us our due, take the shit, and we’ll be on our way,” the red haired man said grabbing the clerk through the small window that separated the two sides of the counter. 

Gaile stomped up from her chair and made for the three men. Her hands went to her hips and she paused right behind them. “You blokes don’t realize this is a business—if we gave every piece of bokoblin cud that waltzed through the door any old amount of jewel for bringing in rubbish, well, I don’t know where we’d be.”

From the corner of her eye Linka could see the door to Link’s room crack open. She turned to look, expecting to see her uncle, but Zelda poked her head out and looked to either side before meeting her gaze. For a moment the Princess froze in place, but she stepped out heading into the common area. 

“You’ll wish you have saved up this _rubbish_ soon enough. Dark days are coming,” said the man with cloak. 

“Dark days are behind us,” Gaile said. “The Calamity is banished from the castle.” 

“You got folk out there that won’t give nothing of a care about that. Cults rising up. Bandits. A Princess isn’t a proper ruler. We need a King or at least a Queen.” 

Linka watched as Zelda paused near the doorway, the Princess had one hand tucked behind her back and the other held to her mouth. 

“Sooner or later Princess has to decide if she wants to actually rule and when that time comes she’s going to need a real army. Royal family abandoned us for decades. They say they was fighting for us, but really it seems like they were hiding. She’s all that survived.” The red haired man took a swig from his flask. 

Zelda’s head sinks and she turns to go for her room. 

“Where were you?” Linka asked. “Did you serve your town in the guard? Did you try to help find some way to bring an end to the Calamity? Or did you scrounge for scrap and hope that a better man would step to handle things for you?” 

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” The redhead stepped toward her. 

Linka whistled and pointed down. “I’d urge you to check out my legs—some would say they’re my best feature.” Under the table she held her crossbow aimed right at the man’s chest. He paused, staring intently at her. “You want to look at taking those rupees, leaving the scrap, and hitting the road.” 

The three men stared her down, but Linka didn’t move. On her worst day she could shoot the three of them before they made it to her or drew weapons against her. They decided to exercise what little freedom of choice they had left and leave with their scrap. 

Zelda stood in the shadows, her back pressed against the wall inside the doorway. She stared at Linka, smiled, and gave a little nod. 

“Zora’s Domain at dawn—how about it?” Zelda asked.

Linka’s hands fumbled together. “You think Link’ll be ready by then.”

“I’m sure of it,” Zelda said. “Miss Gaile, if you could spare a pair of horses for the morning—I think time may be of the essence.”

“Link can’t ride with that arm. You should at least wait till morning.” 

“We will be.” 

Gaile nodded and stared over at Linka. “I’ll get on it,” she said absently. “I was hopping to get to know you better,” she touched Linka’s check with her palm. “Promise me you won’t be a stranger.”

“Aw, Lady Gaile, strangers are just friends you haven’t met yet. I’ll drop through, promise!” Linka said. 

As Gaile left to prepare the horses Zelda looked out the window toward Zora’s Domain. Something about this made her uneasy—she had the same feeling one hundred years ago before Ganon arrived. She knew it couldn’t be him, but something was coming. 


	5. Blades of the Gods

Dust here was different. It was a deep red, the color of rusted iron. It swirled higher in the wind, the way that desert dirt did, but even in the grassland. The flight from the sea had been quiet as this land was sparsely populated. But signs suggested it had not always been that way. 

For the past hundred years or so this country, Hyrule, they called it had been cut off from the rest of the world by a terrible blight that sat upon the land. Sailors who attempted to get too close told of ferocious storms that seemed to make prey out of boats, hunting them across the open sea until they were safely away from shore. 

A few months ago that changed; ships from Hyrule arrived at their shores. People in port towns told tales of men who looked to be half bird or half rock that graced their stores. It was still a bit much to believe, but seeing it for herself, Cynthia could feel the strange power in this land. The air hummed with magic here hummed with magic.

From the height she was at the dust blotted out a lot of the fine details, but it was her job to scout ahead. She could cover so much more ground than the others. In the air she was unmatched. She held tight to the leather straps that made up the harness at her mount’s back as they dipped to pass along the side of this archaic looking tower. 

The tower glowed blue in an intricate pattern that ran down the sides of the shaft. She had passed a few identical structures on her way in, but this was the closest that she had ventured to one of them. “What are these?” She eyed the upper area where a pedestal sat. There wasn’t room for many people at the top and there was no easy way up, save for the make the climb. 

Cynthia glanced over her shoulder. She didn’t want to get too far from the others. It was time to head back and meet up with them. The leather bit into her fingers as Belfire banked to the left to make the tight loop around the tower. She slipped to the side in the saddle, hooking her foot through the stirrup to keep from losing her grip on the Pegasus. Her blue hair was whipped into her face by the crosswind and she was forced to push it away. 

Something sharp pierced her abdomen and she winced, her fingers almost slipped from the reigns. Belfire stuttered, her wings flapping violently before she began to lose altitude. Cynthia’s hand left the straps to curl around something sharp and jutting out from between the plates of her armor: an arrow, a lucky shot too.

Cynthia couldn’t risk Belfire getting hit at this height. She dove for the ground to nullify the risk of falling dozens of feet, fighting through the pain to keep her aim true as she darted for a thin spot in the trees. Cover. There would be some cover there and she could plan her next move. At their speed and direction it would be nearly impossible to get a bead on them. Any Pegasus Knight worth her salt had a trick or two up her sleeve for dealing with arrows. 

Magic was an entirely different story. 

A burst of blue light lit up the sky to her right. Cynthia turned to see a funny little man skipping through the sky like it was a field of daffodils. He wore a white and blue robe with steepled mitre atop his head. The stream of magic energy hit her a moment later. Her chest went cold and it was hard to breathe or move. Her breastplate was encased in ice, it was probably the only thing making sure that her skin hadn’t frozen solid. 

The push of the magic hitting her didn’t register until it was too late, Cynthia was tumbling off of the back of Belfire and the Pegasus let out a pained whinny as it tumbled through the foliage. How far was it to the ground and who would be there waiting for her? 

* * *

* * *

Link batted the thick underbrush with the edge of his sword, fighting to clear a path toward whatever streaked down through the forest canopy. Zelda, Linka and the horses waited for him, watching from the path as he pushed further out.

The area wildlife was silent and it had been ever since whatever he heard fall landed. A small ravine that runs through the woods had filled with water the last time it rained. It wasn’t more than a foot deep, but it was enough to soften the ground and turn the scar that ran through the forest into a muddy trench. 

A woman lay on her back, half submerged in mud. Her otherwise pristine armor was spattered with it and her hair was splayed out around her like a mane, but caked in dirt. 

“Where did you come from?” Link asked as he approached her, his sword down at his side. 

She looked to be his age or younger with dark blue in the places where the mud hadn’t taken hold of it. Her mouth wrinkled and her eyes were held tight as if she were in pain. When there was no reply, Link sheathed his sword and carefully stepped through the mud. He made sure not to put any one part of his foot down first for fear of sinking in. 

“Miss? Miss, are you okay?” Link asked. 

The woman’s arms sprung to attention, her lance raised toward him. Though she was quick, Link no stranger to combat. The Master Sword deflected her lance away from his body, holding it safely to the side. “This is probably a bit more than you bargained for. Now move, you’re keeping me from Belfire.” 

“Belfire?” Asked Link

“My horse, she fell from the sky with me…” 

Link stared over at her. “Your horse…fell out of the sky?” 

“She’s a flying horse. They’re kind of common.” She tried to move more.

“Not here,” Link said, looking more than a little confused. “You’re hurt, maybe take it a little easy,” Link warned her. 

“Probably because you’re some secretly bald, toothless bandit who shot me with an arrow,” she said. She took steps to hide the wound in her abdomen, but he spotted the shaft of an arrow set in the split between two pieces of her armor. “Is this your ploy to take advantage of young maidens?” 

“Take advantage?” Link touched the top of his head, rubbing at his dirty blond hair. “I’m not bald, I have all of my teeth, and I’m definitely not here to—huh?”

He heard the rush of the air before anything else. The beating of blades of grass against boots and the metallic hum of a well honed sword were next. A blue blur was dashed over a log and sprinted straight for him. “Leave my sister alone!”

Link stepped back out of the reach of the first girl’s lance, bringing the Master Sword up so that the pommel pushed his new attacker’s blade to his side. He stumbled backward through the mud, catching himself by stabbing his sword into the ground. 

This new woman had long midnight blue hair that cascaded down her back and off her shoulders. He didn’t have time to see her face, but he could see her eyes. Her eyes were locked with his with a resolve as firm as ice. She and the flying horse girl were sisters—that explains the hair. Link pulled his sword up, flinging the mud from its tip before bringing it up to a defensive position. “Not looking for a fight, lady…” 

The woman’s sword flashed through a spot of sunlight filtered down through the trees as she launched a trio of strikes, but she telegraphed her movements. Link could see the direction of each swing before it neared him and he dodged them with ease. One her final attempt, he caught the blade above his head with a quick movement of his arm and the activation of a guardian’s shield he wore. The glow of the shield surface enveloped both of them. 

This was cause for her attacks to stop for a split second. “What manner of fell magic is this?” 

“It’s a bloody shield,” Link said as he deactivated the ancient item and lunged forward to shove the sword-mistress away. “Now could you listen to me for just a second?” 

“Justice halts for no one!” A new voice screamed just before Link was tackled tumbling into the grass. He kept his grip on the Master Sword, but the bracer that was the guardian shield popped off of his wrist. A man with blonde spiked hair was over Link, holding him down to the ground and attempting to cut through the Master Sword’s defense. “Gah, why are you so strong?” The man grunted as he wrestled with Link. 

“Did all of you get a taste of the wrong mushrooms?” Link shoved upward with his sword and rolled to launch this new attacker off of him and into the grass. Getting to his feet, Link jumped in place, readying himself for the next onslaught. The first swordswoman was at it again, she struck out and this time he met her blade for blade. The Master Sword collided with her sword and the air around them resonated with a hollow metallic ring. On their final hit, they locked weapons, rubbing the blades against one another until white light shone between them. 

A wave of energy exploded through the forest with them at the epicenter. The trees creaked from stress as their wood was pushed to the brink of breaking. Link and the swordswoman slid back in the damp underbrush. Link had to grit his teeth against the force just to stay upright. 

“Who did you steal that sword from, Thief?” The woman asked. 

“Uh, I almost died getting this sword. But thanks for the vote of confidence.” Link said. 

The blond man was moving in behind Link, but he couldn’t turn his attention away from the woman. He glanced over his shoulder to see Linka jumping down from a tree with her crossbows trained on the other man. “Hold it right there, pretty boy, or I’ll put two bolts right in your sack.” 

“My sack? What manner of woman are you?” 

“The kind with a really good shot.” Linka said. 

Zelda rode up on her horse, navigating through the thick bramble and underbrush that filled the forest floor. Her horse whinnied and shuffled as they stopped behind a mossy log. “Whoever you are, it seems there’s been a misunderstanding.” 

“Zell, you’re not taking their side, are you?” Link asked.

“Nothing of the sort, but these three are obviously not ordinary bandits. They’re not bandits and from their hair coloring we can guess that they aren’t from this land,” Zelda said as she struggled to dismount her horse.

“Us? Bandits?” the girl in the mud. “You’re the bandits.” 

Zelda ignored her. “I am Princess Zelda Bosphoramus of Hyrule’s royal family,” she said. “Welcome to our shores.” 

“Princess…Zelda?” The blond man who Linka threatened turns to see the Princess, his sword falling from his hands. “My deepest apologizes, milady.” He runs to her, sliding down on one knee and bowing his head. “I am Sir Owain Gwaine of House Lowell. This is my dear cousin Princess Lucina and her idiot sister, Cynthia kneeling in the mud over there.” 

“You ass!” Cynthia yelled, springing to her feet with her fists balled tightly down at her sides. 

Link withdraws himself from his fight with the one called Lucina, twirling his sword expertly before sliding it into it’s scabbard. “My name is Link. She’s Linka,” he pointed to his niece. 

“Uncle Link is being too humble,” Linka said. “He’s the Champion of Hyrule.”

“Sissy, they have huge ears,” Cynthia tried to whisper to Lucina a little too loudly. “Do you think they’re all really old Manaketes?” 

“Rude!” Linka spat.

“Our ears? They’re a mark of our heritage. We are children of the goddess, Hylia,” said Zelda. “There are humans in Hyrule too, but none with the blue hair that your princesses have.” 

Lucina sheathed her sword. “Let’s not get wrapped up in honorifics,” she said. “I just prefer my name and if you’re really who you say you are we need your help—a trope of blaggards is holding my aunt until we pay them, though I have told them we have very little in the way of coin.” 

Link looked to Zelda and she nodded. “She speaks the truth, I can feel it. We need to help them.” 

“It would be appreciated. I—I can’t lose anymore family.” Lucina said. 

“Mom’s tough. She’ll be fine until we figure something out,” said Owain.

“Yeah, Sissy, we got this,” Cynthia said. 

“I wish we could just drop this and help you, but there’s something going on with the Zora,” Link sighed, glancing around to all of those in attendance. “Where do they have your aunt?” 

Cynthia pointed back toward the west. “There’s a little place where the sea comes inland at a point that way, they have her there. There are more of us in that area, making sure they don’t try to leave.” 

Zelda nodded. “That’s just a stone’s throw from Zora’s Domain, we could get between the two places rather quickly.” 

Link’s hands went to his hips as he surveyed the forest around them. “We’ll help you. Lead the way to your flying horse, Princess Cynthia” he said with a bow and a little flourish of his hand. 

Cynthia returned the courtesy and skipped off through the woods, headed where her mount would have gone down. 

* * *

* * *

The kids would have stayed in the area. At least some of them would have. Chrom and their small militia, the Shepherds, had such a profound affect on their upbringing that she was sure of the kind of tactics they would use. Lucina was the most reluctant to leave, but she didn’t want to risk watching Lissa die. She would let her be taken if it meant a chance to pull through and save her aunt. 

Like her father and just like her sister before, Lissa understood sacrifice. She might have never really gotten it before, but she got it now. If she could save all of them by giving her life, why wouldn’t she. What kind of mother would she be to not give herself for her own children and nieces and their future in general. 

Lissa had been sure to keep her screams down. She didn’t want whoever remained outside to come rushing in here. Of course the men that held her lied, they had nothing but torture and pain in store for her. When the others were gone the first thing that they had done was start to hurt her, to try and chip away at everything she was. 

The poison they had used was unfamiliar to her, but they were determined for her become better acquainted. The leader of the ship’s men wasn’t the one administering the torture; the man who was hadn’t been out and about when they boarded the boat or for the several weeks they were at sea. He was a thin man who had stringy black hair. The upper right quadrant of his face was hidden behind a gold mask, including that eye. The other eye was a reddish brown. He clinical with his language and very precise with a knife. He reveled in this. 

Her body jerked against its bindings as the fiery poison forked its way through her veins. The surface of her skin felt like it was being stripped away, piece by piece. When she had been a little girl she had fallen on a cooking fire and burned her hand horribly. The sensation now was the same, but it spread slowly from the point that the toxin had been injected. 

It was just the chemical, but she kept expecting work her neck against the restraints until she could see her arm, see her leg with the skin bubbling and boiling up from the burning. She kept expecting to smell her flesh. 

“Your clothes,” started the slender man who still held the needle poised between his index and middle fingers. “Your manner of speech and the things you talk about—you stood out from the start.” He said. 

Lissa grunted as he grabbed her arm, her skin felt like it was being pressed to a hot grill where his hand tightened. 

“Then there was the fact we heard tell of the royal family exiled from their lands. Imagine our joy when a group fitting the description tried to leave port?” He said coldly. 

“What if we’re not who you think? What if we’re innocent?” Lissa managed. 

“You’re not—innocent I mean. You’re at the very least a whore—a single mother to two children, but even without that all noble women are whores. Just the same. Then I see the way you carry your axe—you’ve killed. Truthfully, you’re probably no better than most of the men on this ship.” 

“You don’t know me.” 

“I see you. I’ve seen you. Noble folk who try to be all folksy and ‘of the people’. You don’t fit in with your own blood and you aren’t welcome with the lower classes because we know the second that things go wrong it’s our head that’ll be fed to the crows.”

Lissa stifled another cry, she could taste blood in the back of her throat. 

“Do you know what they say about lava root?” Asked the man. “They say that it doesn’t really burn—not really, unless you’re heart is heavy with guilt.” He got down close to Lissa’s face, his thin fingers circling her cheek with the needle. “Then it gets inside of you and burns all of the sin out of your blood. Isn’t that something?” He whispers in her ear. “It can tell the sin from the blood.” 

“Please…” Lissa let out. “Please, just end it.” 

He shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no…the captain made a promise to your niece and we intend to keep our promises…especially if they’re profitable. Giving them back a corpse would get us nothing. Though, I suppose they never told me we had to return you in one piece.”


	6. Remnants of the Calamity

Dark clouds dominated the skies above foothills around Zora’s Domain. The rain came on too quickly for the ground to absorb it all. Water to traced paths and cascaded down the rock face. The waterways sloshed out of their banks.“It looks like we won’t be coming back this way,” Zelda said. She was hunched down over her mount held her cloak up above her head to block most of the rain from getting in her face. 

Link shook his head, throwing off some of the water caught in his hair. “It doesn’t seem like anyone will be coming back this way for a long time.” 

Cynthia sighed. “Usually I would just fly over it.” 

Owain pointed a finger at the side of her abdomen where her armor didn’t cover, but didn’t touch her. “And then lightning would hit you and turn that cute set of twin-tails white.” 

“Stop. That’s right by my wound.” Cynthia said. Zelda had bandaged the arrow wound and with some Hyrulian root salve to help the wound heal. But when they found Belfire she was hurt too, effectively grounding her. 

“I can’t wait till mother’s horse is healed so that we don’t have to hear you two bicker,” Lucina spat. 

Cynthia leaned down off of the side of the Belfire, shaking her head side to side to splash water on her sister. “Oh admit it, you love spending time with me,” she said in a nasally sing-song tone. She sat back up on the mount, rubbing the side of its neck. “Besides, she’s my horse. Mom would have wanted one of us to take after her.”

“Can you be serious for a sparrow’s breath? You wanted nothing to do with combat until she passed—you happened to have inherited her knack for the skies.” Lucina grumbled.

A few steps behind Linka is eating a small bushel of berries. “Are you two always like this?” She asked through a mouth filled with food. 

Owain leaned nearer to her and whispered. “Lucina’s scared of heights.” 

“Hey, princess-sisters, can we keep it down in case there are any spotters or bandits lurking around. I don’t feel like getting my arms butchered again.” Link said. 

Lucina shook her head. “We need to find Lissa. I fear something awful will happen to her…”

“We won’t let that happen,” said Zelda. 

“Yeah, they won’t be expecting you to have help,” said Linka. 

Owain glanced over to her. “Are you as confident with the rest of your combat prowess as you are with those strange bows.”

She lifted her crossbow up where he could see it. “It’s just a type of bow.” 

“Not one I’ve ever seen,” Owain said.

“They’re crossbows. And when we get to where they’re holding your mom I’ll show you what they can really do.” 

Owain smiled softly. “I’ll hold you to that.” He plucked one of the berries off of her bushel. “Do they have names?” 

“My bows? No.” 

“Every great weapon needs a bow, milady.” He said, slapping a hand to her shoulder. 

Linka shrugged. “I’ll think on it. Why are you calling me ‘milady’ like all proper. No one does that.” 

Belfire whinnies, rearing up onto her hind legs and causing Cynthia to hung her tight around the neck as a crackle of lightning breaks across the sky. The thunder that follows is slow and builds to a cacophony of sound. “She’s not usually spooked by rain,” Cynthia said. “Come on girl.” 

The horse lets out another loud cry, but there’s no thunder as a prefix for it. Lucina sheathed her blade and turned to Belfire, taking the creatures long snout in her hands. “What’s the matter?” She said in a small voice. “What’s got you riled up, huh?” 

Zelda rode up alongside Cynthia, positioning herself far enough away to leave room for Lucina. “Maybe the pain in her wings is getting worse, we might need to find something to help her along and dull the pain. I don’t know much about her physiology…”

Lucina shook her head. 

“It doesn’t sound like she’s in pain—it could be a strange smell in the air. She’s in a new place and it probably feels different.” Cynthia explained. She hugged the horse, nestling her face into its fur. “It’s all going to be okay,” she said in a voice that was usually reserved for talking to very small children. 

Owain looked around through the group “We’ve got to push on, will she be fine?” 

Cynthia nodded. 

They trekked higher into the hills, blocked from most of the wind on both sides because the trail was burrowed right through the rock. They passed into the center of the little crevice with the sky barely visible through the slit in the rock above them. Link caught a whiff something strong in the air between those walls, it reminded him of the smell of the shrines he had visited all those months ago. 

“Your country’s land varies quickly from place to place,” Lucina said. 

“Aye,” said Owain. “It’s a bit much to take in,” he said as the walls around them gave way to the open face of the mountain where they were looking out toward a massive smoke topped mountain in the distance. “But these are views that a poet would kill for,” he added. 

They climbed up a steep, narrow path, taking care to make sure that Belfire and Cynthia could make it. Linka was in the front as they emerged on a flat grassy plateau with an ominous stone henge marking its perimeter. Through the blustery wind and rain, their visibility is severely impaired. It’s Linka who first saw that they were not alone. She reached back, pushing her hand into Owain’s chest. “Wait,” she whispered. 

Overhearing her, Link froze just as he was stepping out into the open. Through the mist and rains he could see the silhouette of a hulking four legged beast with the muscular chest jutting up from where the head should be. The face was obscured by the fog, but he could guess the rest. It’s face that of a large lion with a auburn mane that stretched down into a bushy beard that was tied off with a piece of twine. A Lynel. 

“Get Zelda to cover,” Link yelled the moment that he noticed the creature spy them from between the rocks. “Linka, on me!” He dashed out into the open, drawing the Master Sword and flicking his arm so that the guardian shield appeared at his side. He dropped the shield into the wet grass used it to slide safely behind one of the rocks. 

Linka darted out with him, but fell behind, using his distracting motions to fire a volley of shots from her crossbows. The Lynel appeared to be wounded by them, but also didn’t appear to care. He raised his bow into the air and fired off an arrow that crackled with electricity. The arrow arced down toward one of the rocks of the henge, the one where Link waited. 

Diving for him, Linka knocked him out of the way and cleared most of the explosive area of the arrows effect, but her legs were caught by the electricity. She dropped her bows, her whole body seized up as the shock burned through her very veins. 

Owain and Lucina screamed, running into the open, changing straight for the thing. “Wait! It’s too dangerous!” Link yelled as he moved to check on his niece. Her heart was faint and she was burned on the legs where her body had taken the hit, but she was still breathing. 

The Lynel fired another shot, this time at Owain and Lucina, they broke apart, weaving past each other and letting the shot fall to the grass between them. Owain leapt to avoid the sparks. His legs thundering below him, but losing some speed in the wet grass as he landed. 

Cynthia held Zelda back, waiting with her in the edge fo the crevice. “I don’t think it knows where we are. I feel so useless without Belfire’s flight.”

“Even then, the last thing we need is you being electrocuted as you plummet from the sky, milady,” Zelda said. 

Cynthia nodded. 

Lucina reached the Lyne first, springing into the air with her Falchion drawn back to stab, the hilt held between her hands. She was too fast for an arrow, but the Lynel managed to swat her away sending her flying off to the side and landing sliding through the grass. Owain dodged his cousin’s fallen form and moved under the Lynel, slicing upward along the its chest and ripping a slab of flesh out so that it dangled open and bloody. It roared out. Link took this time to fire three quick arrows. The Lynel reared up onto it’s back legs and tried to stomp down on Owain, but he rolled to the side dodging the attack. 

Lucina’s lip was bleeding as she got onto her feet, her sword dragging through the grass as she held it in one hand. Her fingers were weak and there was an intense, blinding pain at her shoulder. She could barely open her hand further or make a fist. This had happened once when she was a child, but it was hard to recall anything but the pain. Her aunt Lissa had called it ‘dislocated’. 

“Power through it, power through it.” Lucina tightened the grip on her sword with her good hand; she had trained for this kind of eventuality. Sure it wouldn’t be proper technique, but it could get the job done. She ran for the Lynel, waves of pain reverberating from her every footfall. Her eyes watered over from the sting of the wind until her vision was blurred into a mush of muted grays and greens and the burnt red of her target. The pain would be over sooner if she ran faster, that assure this all ended one way or another. 

Before she reached her target she was growling, roaring with rage. She charged around another arrow, her arm flopping painfully against her side. She stepped around Owain, bringing her working arm up and hacked at the side of the Lynel. It swatted at her but she deftly ducked under it and continued raking the Falchion through it’s side, back, and legs. 

“Yield, fell beast! Yield!” Her vicious hacking sprayed dark blood all over her face, arms, and chest. She would continue until she was awash with blood if that’s what it took. 

Seeing her move, Link must have followed in the opening she created, he jammed his sword into the creature’s stomach right near the back legs and used his shoulder to knock the blade in deeper. With his weight behind the hilt, he ripped through what would be the horse-half’s abdomen. More dark red blood spilled out across the grass, washing away in the rain water. 

The Lynel’s legs buckled, it’s muscular form seized up and toppled into the tall grass. For a moment it struggled, letting out a hissing sound before gurgling a few last words. Lucina walked around it until she was near it’s head, her face streaked with tears, blood, and rain as she looked down into its face, and jammed her sword into it’s mouth to finish the job. 

“Wow, we okay?” Linka was sitting up from the spot in the grass where she had fallen. “Alright, just kill it without me.” 

Zelda and Cynthia rode out of their hiding place. “How are you even up? We might need to take a breather for your sake.” 

Linka flicked her wrist at Zelda nonchalantly before snatching up her twin crossbows. “It’s nothing, Miss Zelda. I used to get shocked all of the time. My cuccos loved wandering onto the Thundra Plateau…I got hit by a lot of lightning that summer,” her laugh was small petered out. Linka’s first steps were shaky. It was Owain that stepped in to catch her from the side and steady her. 

“Lucina. Lucina?” Link called as he wiped his blade on a scrap of cloth that he had at his belt. Lucina withdrew her sword from the Lynel’s maw, her eyes never deviating from it’s panic stricken face. “You hear me, right?” Asked Link.

“What was it?” Asked Lucina.

Link eyed her for a moment. “A Lynel. A remnant of Calamity Ganon’s army.” 

Cynthia rode up with Belfire, the pegasus flapping its wings frantically for a moment, seemingly out of force of habit. “Ganon? Ganon’s just some old myth. My grandma used to tell me all kinds of stories about Ganon the man made beast and the Goddess Sword.” As Cynthia spoke she pantomimed a beast-man by raising her arms up above her head and then she acted out fighting said beast with a sword. 

Zelda walked past Link, grabbing the hilt of his sword and drawing it from the scabbard. She carried it with the blade resting on one hand presenting it to Cynthia. “This is the Sword that Seals Away the Darkness—there’s references to it through out history and it is said to have been called the Goddess Sword once…” 

Cynthia stared down in disbelief. “This is…that sword?” 

From his spot near Lucina, Link watched his eyes locked on the Master Sword. Another bolt of lightning bisected the sky in the distance followed by a cackle of thunder that caused the air around them to shiver. He placed a hand on Lucina’s shoulder, letting her turn to look at him before he led her away from the Lynel’s body. “You okay,” he asked. 

She nodded.

“Come on,” Link said, his gaze never leaving the Master Sword. 

“It’s astounding that even with more than a century without communication your people maintain the legend of this sword,” Zelda continued. She let out a little snort as she laughed. “I must sit down with a historian or-or a chronicler of some sort from your land!”

“Hey, go on and rein it in—we don’t want these people knowing our ruler is a scatterbrained bookworm,” Link said. He could tell Zelda was about to round on him, so he cut her off. “Besides, we’ve got a person to save and we still need to check on the Zora.” 

With her arm outstretched, Cynthia pointed toward the west and the bay far below. “There’s the ship where they have Aunt Lissa. Maybe I can’t fly, but Gerome is still waiting for us at the shore,” she said stroking the side of Belfire’s mane. 

“Who is Gerome?” asked Zelda. 

“He’s like family,” Cynthia explained. “And he has a Wyvern.” Zelda was familiar with the word as it related to draconic beings, but she had never really heard it used inn casual conversation. These things and concepts must have been common to them, so she didn’t question it. 

“Well, we can’t fly,” said Linka jabbing a thumb into her own chest. “But I’ve got some Octorok balloons and a stupid idea that should fix that.”

* * *

* * *

Minerva had coiled her large dark body into a C-shape on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Nestled in the center of the creature’s massive form was the scrawny shape of Emily curled up with her head resting against the Wyvern’s scaly hide. The two had been resting while Gerome searched for food further inland. He had been gone almost an hour now; Inigo kept watch over the pair and the darkened shape of the ship floating in the bay below. 

Whistling absently to himself, Inigo peered down the cliff face toward the rocks that jutted up from the edge of the sea below. He scrunched his lips to one side, puckering them slightly as he thought. Back home no part of the coast was this high above the water. In the rush to plan a rescue he wondered if Lucina or any of the others had noticed. 

Lissa was—the only real adult that they had left. With Chrom gone things fell apart quickly. His own mother, Olivia, had been one of the first to die in the chaos of everything. It still wasn’t clear who had killed her or why, but her throat had been slit wide open. It was Lissa who found her. 

And then it was Lissa who made sure he was cared for and raised in a loving household. Emily and Owain would feel her loss the deepest, but she was a mother to all of them. 

There was a slight rustling noise and he looked back to see Emily stirring in her resting place against Minerva’s belly. He sighed and strolled back toward her, running his fingers through his dark hair. A sly smile moving across his lips until his teeth showed through. “We’ve got to get her back,” he whispered. A stiff wind seemed to carry his words away. 

“Ahoy there, stranger!” Came a voice from further along the ridge. He didn’t remember there being any way to come from that direction without first climbing through a lot of rocks. Minerva and Gerome had scouted it out. And yet, here was a woman with shapely hips and a mousey-forbidden-maiden type face. 

He straightened up his collar. _Today might be one for my journal after all._ ”Ahoy to you too,” he said with a smile. He checked to make sure Emily was still asleep. She and Minerva both hadn’t shifted. 

The girl smiled, her cloak billowing out behind her. “Any reason why you’re all the way up here?” She asked. 

Inigo ran his hand over his forehead stopping at the top of his head. He glanced toward the ship again. “Boat watching. It’s a hobby of mine.” 

“I see. I’m Caroline.” 

“Inigo,” he said with a curt bow. “At your service milady.” 

Caroline leaned down to peer over at Emily. “That your pet and your betrothed?” She asked. 

Inigo jumped with a start. “Betrothed? No, we don’t do that here.” His eyes fell on Emily sleeping soundly. This girl actually wasn’t fit to stand in Emily’s shadow. There was a quality to Emily that was tough for him to put into thoughts or words. A warm light emanated from her. She was smart and beautiful in a way the dozens of poems he had written her didn’t do justice. 

Even now, with how she was laying there was a gracefulness to her form. Pale hints of skin peeking out from under the crumpled hem of her tunic and the way it hung from her lithe midriff. The way her neck curved down into her shoulders in a perfect arc or her small, but supple breasts…

He had spent a lot of time thinking about Emily. 

“She’s my friend,” he chuckled. 

“Hm, the girl or the beast?” Carolina’s expression curled into a wicked smile. 

“The girl.” 

“That’s fortunate,” she replied. 

Inigo stepped closer. “Why’s that?”

“Well, you know a girl can get lonely traversing Hyrule on foot like this. Maybe we could help each other out. I could show you a little nook I found and you could…explore some other nooks while we’re over there?” Caroline pointed back over her shoulder from the direction she had come. 

Inigo crossed his arms and shook his head. “If it were any other day…but I can’t leave Emily here alone and I can’t take my eyes off that ship.” 

“What? Are you in love with it?” 

Inigo grimaced. “No, a man can’t make love to a ship…it’s…well…” 

She laughed. “Or is it you’re scared I’m going to try and charge you if we go back to this cave? Don’t have the stamina to last long enough to get your coin’s worth?” 

“Prostitution is a noble endeavor and I’ve got enough stamina to do most anything I please, I just can’t leave my friend out here.” He shrugged. “Also—sex is like water for me, I don’t pay for what I can easily get for free,” 

Caroline sighed. “You really looked like you might be the one. It’s not often I come across a do-gooder who puts that much time into his appearance and is more interested in helping friends than getting a warm, wet helping of quaint pudding.” She glanced toward the rock face, before stepping in closer to him and running her finger down the front of his collar and into his open shirt. “Looks like we’ll have to do things the hard way,” she said as the gleam of a dagger caught Inigo’s attentions. 

She was fast and brought the weapon down toward his chest with a blinding speed. Fortunately, Inigo was faster. He caught her arm, stopping the downward motion inches from his chest and twisting her arm out to the side. 

Inigo lunged forward, slamming his forehead into nose and knocking her back to the ground. He drew his saber, tapping the blade against his open palm as he shook off the impact of his face against his. “If you wanted to play rough—you could have just asked. Shame really, I left my riding crop in my quarters on that ship full of scoundrels…” 

“You’ll pay for this you bastard,” Caroline’s face seemed to be melting away, the blood mixing with runny skin until her skin slipped off to congeal into a mess on the ground between her legs. She struggled to sit up. “The Yiga Clan need that beast you have—and we can probably fetch a fair price for the girl too.” 

“I don’t know what a Yiga Clan is.” Inigo noticed that the air around him was suddenly very still. Four masked figures with hooked shaped blades closed in on him now. He hadn’t heard them walk up, then again, he hadn’t heard “Caroline” either. “Ah, I’m guessing that’s these blokes?” 

Caroline’s face was completely gone now, replaced by a white mask with slits for eyes. “You’ll rue this day so long as you live, which won’t be much longer now.” 

In a blur of movement, Inigo crouched under a sword swing from one of the attackers, springing up to find his mark under the man’s arm. His blade slid into the space just below his shoulder join, bending to slide into the chest cavity and through the lungs and possibly the heart. 

Inigo withdrew the blade, sliding his attacker onto the grass just in time to block another pair of blades,

“I’ll tear you apart you fucking fool!” One of the others yelled. 

“Gentlemen, sorry if I forgot my mask in this situation,” he said, the Castilian accent of his parentage coming through more in these tense moments. “No one informed me that there was a masquerade ball taking place on the shore.” 

Inigo ducked to the side, letting there blades fall against his and caused them to almost trip. The third attacker slashed at his back but he danced out of the way, his deft foot movements writing a path in the grass between the motions of their blades. 

Caroline rushed him. “Maybe I’ll leave you alive—just for long enough to peel the skin off your body!” 

He matched her blow for blow, deflecting what he could and then stepping out of the way of some of the more powerful strikes. 

Tucking his hand in behind his back, Inigo smiled with delight. “This is good sport,” he said between strikes. “What I mean to say is…this is a bette fight than I’ve had in a while. And Emily and Minerva are just sleeping through the whole bloody thing!” 

Inigo battled his way through the four Yiga Clan members, holding them back with an exceptional sword skill. The five of them moved around in a circle over the dead body of the Yiga Clan’s fallen comrade. 

Two of them pinned Inigo down, with Caroline and the other faceless man rounding on him. There was no where to dodge now. Depending on what they decided to do he would have to power through. Divide his attention into quarters and dispatch with each threat as it came. 

A sickening crunch echoed through the area. Inigo looked to his side to see Emily’s war-hammer buried in the skull of one of the faceless Yiga. A drowsy smile lit up her pretty face and her pale blue eyes locked with his. Minerva snapped down, bitting into another of the Yiga, snatching him up and flinging him screaming over the side of the cliffs. 

Inigo took this tiny opening as his opportunity to step back and put some distance between himself and Caroline. “Oh, look. I’m so very glad that the two of you decided to join me.” 

“We were told to sit put. You started a fight with four clowns of whatever they are,” Emily said taking three quick strikes at the remaining male with her hammer. Her attacks missed, but they were enough to drive the Yiga back each time. 

Inigo matched blades with Caroline. “I didn’t start this. They attacked us!” 

Emily brought the hammer up close to her shoulder, the head of it right next to her cheek, in an attempt to block an attack. The curved sickle like sword the Yiga held struck the hammer and she shoulder checked him to the ground, letting the hammer fall into his chest with a wet crunch. She finished him off with a blow to the head. 

Using the death of her last companion as a distraction, Inigo locked his saber into Caroline’s blade and stepped in close to her before spinning to the side to circle around to her back. He locked her sword-arm down to her side and pulled his other bicep up right around her neck, bringing his face down next to her ear. She struggled, swatted, batted at his face in a feeble attempt to hit him, but he jerked his head out of the way each time. 

“Usually I’m the very model of a gentlemen,” Inigo started. He dodged a few more swipes. “I’ll give a lady what she desires, but I’ll make an exception here,” he said, the ‘R’s’ rolling off his tongue eloquently. He could feel her neck tensing, her throat spasmed for air and blood to pass to her brain. “You’ll get penetration from no part of me—not even my saber.” 

Her neck gave and the skin pressed in flat through the bones, her head flopped forward and her body gave a few last, shuddering movements before falling limp. He pushed Caroline’s lifeless form toward the cliffs sending her over the side. 

“She sure got under your skin,” Emily said. 

Inigo wiped the sweat from his brow, pushing a few stuck tendrils from his bangs free. “What makes you say that, love?” 

“Well, whatever that was you were just doing with her.” 

“She tried to lure me away and then threatened to sell you to bad men. I will not stand for that kind of disgrace.” Inigo said. 

The realization of what they were doing and where they were seemed to wash over Emily. “Any word on mom or the others.” 

“Gerome is still getting food, the others haven’t returned yet, but we will have your mother back.” 

“I know.” Emily glanced back at Minerva. “Why did you let me sleep so long?” 

“You started to cry and fell asleep, I felt like you might suffer less if you were sleep. You looked so peaceful—you can go back to getting rest. I will be here.” Inigo said. 

Emily settled down on the ground, planting the head of her hammer n the grass at her side. “I could hardly sleep after all of that. I could watch things for you, though.” 

He nodded, unhooking his cape and spreading it out in the softest part of the grass he could find. His eyes would wander to Emily every so often. “You’re right, we’re going to need all the energy we can get.” 

With his eyes closed he felt her move closer to him, the weight of her hammer hitting the ground with a thud was not too far off. And then she sat down next to him and he could smell her, hear her breath. When he fell asleep he saw her as he had seen her a million times before in his dreams, but more lately she was joined by the happy faces of their friends and family. King Chrom and Queen Sumia. Ylisstol’s glory days were still ahead of it with years of strife at their backs like a steady wind propelling a ship. 

Inigo knew it was a dream and that it was an impossibility. Their king was missing and their friends and families mostly scattered to the wind. But Emily was here. She always had been. He would hold onto her tight no matter what came. 


	7. Sacrifices

# Balance of Power

# Chapter 6

Cynthia was finally able to take to the skies again. Emily, despite her limited skills, was able to use a Mending spell to patch Belfire up. There was a difference in mobility; the Pegasus’s side to side movements were stiff—she relied more on gliding, probably on account of not trusting their weight to the wings. 

Still, they were in the air and keeping pace with Minerva, carting their small intrusion group toward the distant ship. Link rode sandwiched in between Cynthia to his front and Lucina at his back. His arms were wrapped around the younger sister’s waist with his hands locked over her stomach. 

The last time he had ridden a horse in back of a woman it had been his mother. He could barely remember her face, even after seeing old photos that Zelda had taken a century prior. He just remember his small arms wrapped around her middle and her glancing back at him, but her face is just out of sight. She would forever be this faceless figure towering over him, like some mythical being. 

“Hold on,” Cynthia dipped the pegasus forward, the wind rushing up past them as they dove. She zipped back up to soar higher and Belfire opened her wings to glide. 

“You might want to hold off on the tricks, little one,” Inigo yelled from Minerva’s back. The Wyvern was massive compared to the Pegasus and could carry more people, though they rode without the aid of a pillion of any kind. Gerome controlled the beast while Linka, Emily and Inigo rode along. 

“I still think we should have found some way to use these Octorok balloons.” Linka said to no one at all as she stared off absently into the distant, darkened sky. 

“What is your obsession with Octorok balloons?” Asked Link.

Linka shrugged. “They make it look cool when you do, you know, hero shit.” 

The sun was setting at their backs with the clouds wreathed in oranges and yellows and deep purples and blues where the light didn’t quite reach. It was the perfect cover for them since the light would be so bright they would be hard to spot against all of it. 

At least that was the hope. 

“You think we’ll be able to sneak aboard like this?” Asked Lucina, her face close to Link’s ear. 

He looked back at her. “Look down there,” he pointed to the ship, they were nearly directly above the dark spot with rippling waters breaking against its sides. “The deck is almost empty. Their guard patrols are spread out.”

“Anything approaching should be easy to see. They’re expecting there to be plenty of warning when we come.” Lucina studied the way the men walked the edge of the deck, shuffling along and watching the water for signs of trouble. 

“We don’t go to the edge of the boat, we drop down in the middle.” Link pointed to a spot near the mast of the ship, his glove hand tracing a line out from there to other spots along the middle that it seemed no one had sight of.

Cynthia and Gerome climbed higher into the sky, trying to avoid any chance that spotters on the ship would catch their approach. They circled around over the boat using the sails whipping in the wind to cover the sounds of gigantic wings beating against the night sky. There was a narrow strip in middle of the ship between the two primary masts where some boxes and things were stacked and formed a little passage. It was enough to space for Minerva and Belfire to slip down inside and still have room to move. 

Belfire’s hooves pounded over the deck as the Pegasus landed with a large thud. The creature scrambled back, moving it’s feet in short, rushed motions in an attempt to lose the momentum from the flight. Minerva’s claws were much better at this; the Wyvern dug it’s feet into the wooden deck of the boat and screeched to a halt. 

“Didn’t know boats got this big,” Link said. He peered up and down the space between boxes where they had landed. No alarms were blaring, no signal flares had been set off. It appeared that they had made it onto the ship undetected. 

Inigo’s foot was stuck and he had some difficulty climbing off the Wyvern’s back. “Why would you? It seems that your people had given up on ship building sometime ago,” he said. 

“So you’re saying that these men are of your lands?” Asked Link.

“Not for sure, ship building isn’t exclusive to anyone in Yistol,” Lucina said. “But there are some countries with large navies and those that have paid privateers to do their seafaring for them.”

Gerome stood in front of Minerva’s massive head stroking the center of her face with his palm. “Be still,” he said in a low, soothing tone. “Be still.” He pressed his face to her snout. 

Cynthia puffed her cheeks up, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “You better be good too, Belfire,” she said. “Don’t embarrass me.” 

The Pegasus eyed her almost as if it knew what she meant.

Emily touched Link’s shoulder. “Do we split up or…”

“No, we’re already outnumbered and we can’t count on Owain and Zelda for a daring rescue. We stick close together, but stay quiet.” Link glanced at Lucina, looking for a sign of approval from her. He was sure if she followed along the others would too. 

Lucina watched Link’s carefully, her expression flattening. “Right.” 

They moved for the forward section of the ship, Linka and Link leading the way with Lucina close behind. The wind picked up and blew between the narrow spaces between stacked pallets and boxes that lined the ship. 

“This is wrong,” Lucina said. “The deck was almost empty just a few hours ago.” She skidded to a stop causing Link and Linka to turn back. 

“You mean they’ve moved all of this stuff in here since you’ve been gone?” Asked Linka.

Emily nodded. “Must’ve. This was all open space—they’ve filled up most of the deck.”

Linka let her crossbow slip back into the holster on her boot and pressed her face to the space between the slats in one of the boxes. “It’s dark,” she said. “Definitely can’t see what’s in there.”

“It’s of no consequence,” Lucina snapped. “We’re not here to investigate this,” she lowered her voice as if she suddenly became aware of the danger of being found out. 

“She’s right,” Gerome said. “We don’t have much time. Lissa’s life is at stake.”

Emily glanced around the group, the mounting worry in her eyes clear. “But they said they would give her back.”

“Don’t think for a second that these are men of honor,” Lucina said. “I don’t trust for a moment that they won’t harm Aunt Lissa.” 

As they neared the edge of the ship, their feet naturally took on a lighter step and their running turned into a slow creep. Voices could be heard more clearly now, guards from the deck were passing the opening between the rows of boxes, though they didn’t check the darkened gap from which the group would soon emerge. 

One guard paused just as they reached the edge of the light, perhaps picking up on the movement. In a flash Linka loosed a crossbow bolt into his chest and then another and another. Before the man could drop, Lucina caught him by the belt, checking either way down the sides of the ship. 

“Coast is clear,” Lucina said. She shoved the man toward the railing roughly, causing him to topple overboard and slip down into the darkened waters. The sounds of the water splashing against the sides of the ship were loud enough that his descent wouldn’t draw attention. 

Inigo shrugged. “I guess we’re not having any qualms about killing here?” He held his thin blade against his palm examining it carefully in the dull light of the torches. 

With his back pressed against the side of the boxes, Link peered down the outside of the row, they stretched clear back to the other side of the ship. “Men like this who take prisoners and hold them for ransom—they won’t think twice about maiming you or worse,” Link said. “Go or the kill.” 

Emily’s expression hardened, her blue eyes looking from Lucina to Cynthia. “I understand,” she said as if the words were meant for her. 

“We’ve got to move fast, there’s only so much time where we’ll have the element of surprise,” Lucina said. 

“Right, the cabin where they’d probably keeping Lissa is that way,” Gerome said pointing with the head of his axe. 

Linka glanced at the others before sidling up to Link. “Are we good, Uncle Link?” She asked. 

He patted her shoulder with his sword hand. “We’ve got this.” 

The rest of the deck was mostly clear with little groups of crates tied down with nets here and there, but the whole thing being otherwise free of people and supplies. Even the guards on duty were more sparse than it had first seemed. They were most of the way to the darkened shape of the cabin before they came across another guard. It was Lucina who got the jump on him, her Falchion ripped through his throat with one deft thrust. Though he tried to speak, his words cut through and the only sound that came out was stifled gurgles. 

She withdrew her sword, letting him fall into a lump on the deck. “It’d be best if we kept any of them from yelling…” Lucina said. 

“Hey!” Another guard had just rounded the corner and had jumped with a start upon seeing them. He twisted to the side to yell to someone else, cupping his hands around his beard and mouth, but before the next words could leave his lips Linka dashed the short distance, sliding down onto her back and firing a bolt into him. Midway through her slide, she turned toward the direction he had been trying to yell and polished off another target toward the middle of the ship. 

Someone else must have seen one of the two of those men fall because there was mournful ringing that echoed over the deck. They had trigged some kind of alarm. In front of them the boards creaked and rocked with the sound of boots stomping their way up through the lower decks and rushing through the cabin. 

“Element of surprise is over!” Cynthia yelled. 

“Good. I was beginning to think that we’d have to do this entire thing the boring way,” Inigo said. 

The door to the cabin burst open and men rushed out, with three squeezing through the door and more filing in behind them. Emily let her hammer fall to the deck, resting her forearms against the base of the handle as she muttered a short incantation. Lightning arced around her, forking through the air and rippling across the wooden deck to send splinters of wood flying. The lightning spread out to and spread through the people coming through the door until ten of them were caught in it’s grasp. Their bodies tensed and shook, with the men dropping to the deck stiffened with electricity. It was several seconds before they stopped shaking, apparently dead or near death. 

Emily heaved an exasperated sigh, her pale skin streaked with sweat now. “I don’t think I have many of those in me.” 

Another man was charging in from the direction they had just come, but Linka jumped onto his shoulders, crossing her legs over his chest to hold herself upright before firing a shot into the back of his neck. As he went down, she rode him until her feet touched the ground and sprang up to take aim at someone else. “It’s for the best—you killed a lot of them. Give us some time to catch up,” Linka said. 

They ripped through the lines of the ship’s crew, tearing a path into the interior of the cabin. Link and Lucina led the charge, cutting a swath through upper deck of the ship and into the lower ones. Since they moved as a group with Linka and Gerome covering the back they were able to fend off attacks from either direction. 

Link jabbed one man in the upper chest with the Master Sword, missing any vital organs, but pinning him to an open door. “Where’s her aunt?” He asked pointing over his shoulder at Lucina. 

The man looked too frightened to answer. Up and down the hall his comrades were being battered and cut down. Many of them had been hurt in the previous fight and with a slightly more put together group that had time to get into a secure area before starting this fight it was much harder for them to defend themselves. 

“He might not know who you’re talking about!” Lucina yelled as she matched blades with a tattooed faced man. 

“Right. You’ve got a prisoner, where is she?” Asked Link. 

The man’s words were spoken through clenched teeth. “Iago—the sorcerer has her!” 

“Where?” Link asked.

“L-lowest deck,” the man stuttered.

“Thanks.” Link grabbed him at the sides of the face, jerking his neck clear to the side until a wet snap reverberated from somewhere deep inside of the man’s neck. His body went limp and Link yanked his sword free to let him crumple in the doorway.

Link pushed his way past Gerome and Lucina, he touched Emily’s back as he stepped between her and the wall. One of the brigands thundered down the hall toward Link, his scimitar raised. Before he could strike, Link batted his blow away with his shield and pushed the Master Sword into the man’s gut. Using the shield he slid the man off of his blade and onto the floor. 

“Where are you going, Uncle Link?”

“Lower decks. He said she’s there.” 

“Not alone you aren’t!” Lucina called as she moved to catch up to Link, but the gap that had opened as he fought his way toward the end of the hallway closed quickly. If too many of them got separated from the group there wouldn’t be much chance for them to fend off attackers. 

Link knew that if they didn’t do something to get Lissa back soon that there was a chance the men holding her would finish her off as revenge. When he got to the end of the hallway where was a hole in the floor with a ladder leading down, none of the crew were back here and their numbers seemed to be thinning. He checked to either side of the hole and dropped through, using his boots to catch the side of the ladder to slow his descent. 

The lower deck was mostly empty except for stores of food and the occasional lantern dangling from the ceiling on a thin chain. Link moved carefully through the darkness with the Master Sword raised over his shoulder at the ready. He tightened his grip around the hilt and took a deep breath. There was the noise above deck, the boots scrambling through the hallway in a desperate attempt to stop his companions, but down here there was almost nothing. 

Then at the far end of the area, through a closed door he heard the sobs. They were light and weak, but definitely there. He plowed on through the dark, past bags of various supplies and extra weapons and what appeared to be riches packed in crates. 

As he reached the door and reached out to grasp the handle a voice spoke from the other side. “Come in.” 

Link’s hand froze just above the knob and he weighted the options quickly. He could take the more careful approach, feel the person out and think of a plan from there. But Link’s niece and people he had made a promise to help were fighting for their lives in the hallway above him, his best friend and Princess was waiting for him back on shore with a stranger and they had a whole land to rebuild, and on the other side of that wall was a woman who needed help or was already dead—regardless of all that careful had never been Link’s style. 

One could be rash and not stupid. He sheathed the Master Sword and pulled the Slate from his belt. He moved through the little menus written in High Hylian until he found the function he wanted. Runes. He glanced back into the darkness of the ship, looking at the Slate screen for the thing he needed. _There._

Moment’s later there was a mellow hum as a huge metal crate came sailing through down the ship’s deck and slammed into the door, destroying the door and collapsing most of the wall in with it. Link stepped through the door to see Lissa slumped over in a chair, he eyes barely open, but she was still alive. A man in part of a mask was laying on the floor, he had presumably dove for cover. 

The room itself was the stuff of nightmares, there was bandages soaked with blood piled in one corner and there was far too many of them. Link hoped that all hadn’t come from Lissa. On the table were various instruments that like needles snd syringes and little silver knives and other tools Link didn’t have names for, but they didn’t seem to have practical uses outside of inflicting pain. 

Link pointed the Master sword at him. “Iago, right? I’m Link. Sorry about your wall—I hope it didn’t hold any sentimental value.” 

“Link,” Lissa muttered in a small voice. “Link…” 

“You chose the wrong time to butt in!” Iago aimed his fingers at Link and the robed man’s form was surrounded with swirling runes that moved around him in tight orbits. Oily purple mist forked toward Link, but he held up the Master Sword. The blade seemed to draw the magic in, wicking it away from existence. 

“Huh, look at that!” Link said when the spell had finished. He swung the sword, discharging the energy back at Iago. A dark wave of magic burst from the blade and slammed into Iago, knocking him against the side of the room. 

Link rushed to help Lissa, she was cool to the touch and her skin was streaked with blood. Blood crusted at the corners of her mouth and under her nails. Whatever torture they had dreamed up for her had been going on probably since the moment that Lucina’s group left the ship. Getting down on one knee, Link moved to untie her. 

“I’ve got you milady. I’m Link and we’re going to get you to one of the best healers in the world. Her name’s Zelda—I mean she helped to bring me back.” He worked at undoing multiple knots. 

“Link…” she managed again. 

“Yeah, that’s right. And like I said you’ll be okay, Miss.” Even in this state it was easy for him to tell the was Emily’s mother. They had the same blonde hair and face with a simple, pure kind of beauty. Their bodies were petite and they were around the same height.

“Like I said,” Link started. “I was on death’s door, I could practically see the Golden Land itself, and she saved me. I was in a worse state than this and you seem like you’re strong—I just need you to stay with me while we get out of here,” Link said. 

He scooped Lissa up into his arms, holding her against his chest. If they met with trouble this would be the end of them, but he could find another method to carry her once they were out of this room. He didn’t like being in this room. 

“We’re going. Come on.” Link moved for the door of the room with her bunched up against his chest. 

Lissa’s blood stained fingers played at the collar of his shirt. Her hand trembled in a way that said she didn’t have much time. “Frederick…you came,” she managed. 

“I’m Link.”

“Look—look out,” Lissa said as she thrashed against him. 

“Cut it out,” said Link. When he heard the movement behind him it was too late. 

Iago had risen to his feet, his skin turned black like coal and swelled until it started to stretch the fabric of his clothes and ripped them at the seams. The divots that had once been his eyes met Link’s as his overgrow pudgy mass swelled toward them. “Through him I shall be given the strength—life anew to usher in a new age!” Iago’s voice was distorted, as if a huge bubble of mucus was swelling up inside his throat. 

The spectacle had caught hold of Link, but he broke away running for the other side of the ship where the ladder leading back up had been. He slung Lissa up over his shoulder drawing the Master Sword in a bid to be ready for anyone who might bar their way. 

“Hang on!” Link called. 

The explosion rocked the ship, throwing wood and debris everywhere. Link couldn’t look back, he wouldn’t. He charged for the ladder, jabbing the Master Sword into the wall to give himself an extra hold. Water lapped at his boots and he glanced down. The boat was filling up. 

“Linka!” Link yelled. The water was pulling him, like it was being drained into something, but the pull was too strong. It felt unnatural. He grabbed for Lissa. “Lucina! Linka!” 

“Uncle Link!” 

Above him the sounds of the fighting had died down. He could hear screams and running. He could hear someone running toward him. Link’s hands were too slick and he could barely keep his grip on the pommel of the Master Sword. The ladder was still out of reach. 

Linka’s face appeared in the hole leading up to the second floor and a second later Lucina was there. “Give me your hand!” Linka shouted. 

“Take her. Reach down and take her!” He tried to hang on and thrust Lissa toward Linka and Lucina. 

“No, we’ll pull you both up!” Lucina said. 

Link glanced back toward the room where he had found Lissa. A mass of swirling mist was engulfing that side of the boat, pulling water down into it and yet there seemed to be more and more water. A spell of some kind, Link figured. 

“You have to take her!” Link said. He moved lift Lissa up and the moment her legs were off of his shoulder the water grabbed her and wouldn’t let go. He held the sword hilt and he held her, but he couldn’t do both and something very strong wanted Lissa. She was ripped away, her unconscious body being pulled back through the ship and into the darkened void. 

“Lissa!” Lucina nearly dove down the hole, Linka caught her and hoisted her up. 

“Take this, keep it safe!” Link flung the Slate up through the hole. “Give it and the sword to Zelda, Linka.” 

“What are you doing?” Linka asked. She glanced over to where the Slate had landed.

Link smiled. “Hero shit.” He let go of the sword and was sucked backward out of her view. 

Linka clambered down into the hole in time to fall onto the dry floor and see Link and the water being pulled backwards out of sight. With a last, forced devil-may-care look he gave her a thumbs up, just before he was pulled into the icy embrace of the void.


End file.
